


All's Fair (In Love And War)

by st_jimmy_987



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, OT3, also known as that fic I shouldn't be starting, and yet here it is, tina and Percival are totally friends, tina is a bamf friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9038630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_jimmy_987/pseuds/st_jimmy_987
Summary: In which Newt, Percival, and Credence have been promised to each other from infancy. Only, Percival is the only one who wants to be married.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt "unwanted husband Percival" on http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/459.html?thread=128459#cmt128459.
> 
> My very first OT3 fic was born!!

Prologue: Percival Graves  
He could recall very little about the actual meeting that took place. Percival was three years of age, a little past the normal age for betrothing. His mother told him later that she and his father had been getting worried. They had suspected he wouldn't be betrothed at all, and his magic would wind up becoming too powerful and overwhelming him.

Percival remembered sitting with his father, listening to the witch behind the desk explain to him why they were so late in assigning him partners, and though he was trying to pay attention, his focus wandered.

First it was to the witch, with her big black hair pulled into a giant poof of a ponytail. Her gaze was sharp as she addressed all three parents, and her hands moved with every word she spoke. She wore a dark pressed suit, but she had on a bright blue tie that stood out starkly against the black of her clothes. When she pointed at one of his partners’ parents, he followed her hand and came face to face with big eyes

The other boy was smaller than him, he noted, but he wasn't sure how much smaller. He had brown hair that was wavy and long, and freckles all over his face. He blinked at him, and Percival wondered if he should smile at him or not. The other boy beamed at him, wide and showing off a couple of teeth, and Percival felt his own mouth twitch in response.

Then the other boy wiggled out of his mother’s arms and dropped to the floor. Her hand shot out to grab him, but she missed and Percival watched as one of his partners ran out the door and down the hall. Apologizing profusely, his mother darted after him. He could hear her calling for him all the way down the hall.

It left him with his other partner, and the boy brought him more curiosity than he could stand. Percival reached out and touched his father’s sleeve, and the man glanced down at him once before nodding. Slowly, he slid out of his seat and walked around the middle father to see another woman sitting down.

She looked pale and a little shaky, but she smiled at Percival when he came to a stop by her side. Personally, he thought the other boy’s smile was prettier, but he didn't say. Instead, he looked down.

His last partner was wrapped in a blanket. He was sleeping, his lips twitching every so often and his arms making aborted movements. Percival stared, entranced by the sight of the baby. He was small, too, like his mother, and he only had a little bit of hair. Percival reached out and touched his cheek gently.

It was soft, and he found himself determined to keep both of his partners safe. He wanted to preserve the wide smile of the other boy, and he wanted to make sure this one stayed soft and warm.

Percival Graves was three years old and in love.

XxX

“Ma, could I go play with Newt?” Eight year old Percival asked; his hand was tugging at her skirt, ignoring how she swatted his hand to keep talking with the lady in the fire. Percival felt his mouth twist. “Or how bout Credence, Ma, can I go find him?”

“Hold on, Percival.” His mother said, though she continued to talk to the witch. He felt like stamping his foot, but knew that he shouldn't. Ma wouldn't like it, and then she'd tell Father and he'd be in trouble. Instead he pulled a little harder.

“Ma, you're not answering me, Ma. I wanna play with Newt. Or Credence, Ma, can I go?” She pushed him away, gently enough that he didn't fall but he got the message that she didn't want to be bothered. Percival sighed through his nose, but didn't let up his assault on her dress. He wanted an answer, jeez. “Ma! Ma, can I go, Ma?”

“Not now, Perci, wait.” She snapped, not taking her eyes off the other woman. He made a face; he hated it when she called him ‘Perci’, especially in front of other witches or wizards. Or even No-Majs, when they went to the store or the library. He kept pulling, and she kept her focus on the witch. “As I was saying, she doesn't seem to be getting any better, does she, and from what I hear- - -”

“Ma, Newt.” Percival repeated, tugging more insistently.

“Percival, enough!” His mother turned and grabbed his hand, pulling it gently from her dress and dropping it. “I told you, Newt and his family went back to England. You need to stop this now, I'm busy.”

“What about Credence?” Percival twisted his mouth. Stupid Newt. Stupid England. At least Credence still lived in New York, though he wasn't exactly sure where. He'd figure it out, though; the magical community was small in New York, and he had the advantage of feeling Credence’s magic in the back of his head. It was a constant presence, both his and Newt’s, that reminded him that they were all going to be married someday. In the way future, hopefully, because he had a lot of plans for when he was a grown up.

His mother visibly hesitated, glancing at the witch in the fire, but Percival didn't notice. He was busy thinking of what game he would be able to play with him. His ma told him that Newt was a year younger than him, and Credence was almost three years younger than him. That made the younger boy five, nearly six, but that didn't mean there wasn't nothing they could do together. It just took a bit of creativity on Percival’s part to keep Credence entertained. Which, actually, shouldn't be too hard; it would be a lot of little kid games, but Credence would be the only one Percival would play little kid games with. He figured it would be ok. They were supposed to be married, after all.

“Percival, why don't you play with the boys in the neighborhood instead.” She said firmly, dismissing her son as she turned away. Percival stared up at her, feeling annoyed at being ignored, but rolled his shoulders and turned on his heel.

“Yeah, ok, ma.” He said glumly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away. Percival felt the two different magics in the back of his head, and prodded at them both. Only one pressed back, and he tried not to be too disheartened by that.

XxX

When he was sixteen, Percival felt something alarming in the form of an absence of magic. He was sitting in the library, reading a chapter called “The Study of No-Majs and Their Impact On the Wizarding Community” for an essay, and realized almost belatedly that there was only one magical presence pressing on his mind. Brow furrowing in concern, Percival sat up and pressed insistently against the hole left behind. Nothing happened.

He poked against the remaining presence, and wasn't concerned when it didn't do anything back; he had decided long ago that Newt probably didn't particularly care for him, and that it was a product of the boy living in England. He was too far away for any sort of proper bonding to take place, and so Percival dismissed that as normal.

But Credence…

Credence was much closer, and he always pressed back. He was more open and comforting than Newt was, and Percival was worried. It wasn't like Credence was avoiding him or ignoring his soft presses. It was more like he'd vanished completely, from the bond and from Percival. He wondered, briefly, if he'd disappeared from Newt as well. He wondered if Newt noticed.

He wondered if Newt cared.

But he'd noticed, and he cared. Percival put his book away, only just keeping himself from running up to the bird perches. Pigeons were the more accepted method of communication when at school, due to the No-Majs not even looking twice at the common birds, and Percival pulled paper out of his bag as he headed up.

‘Mother,’ he wrote, and paused. He hesitated a moment, then continued onward, ‘it has been brought to my attention that something might be wrong with Credence. His magical presence has managed to disappear, and I find it very discomforting. I am at school, and so cannot do anything to help him. If you could perhaps do me a favor and look for him, I would very much appreciate it. I hope you and father are doing well. Message me back as soon as possible. Thank you.’

His mother never messaged him back about Credence, and Percival spent the rest of the school year with one silent press of magic against his skull, and one absent one.

XxX

Afterwards, Percival couldn't say what was more disappointing. Newt had nodded briskly at him when they'd arrived, denied his offer for a tour with curt words, and promptly darted up the stairs and to the right. Percival heard several doors open before Newt found what he was looking for and shut the door firmly.

It left him with Credence, but the younger boy looked terrified. He was trembling just a little, and his hands wringing over each other. His dark eyes were darting around, never lingering on anything; he kept glancing up the stairs longingly, then back to Percival, then the ground. He looked thin, Percival thought, and could only bring up the hazy memory of his mother looking the same way.

“Go on.” He said gruffly, and Credence jumped about ten feet in the air. The boy looked at him fully, now, turning a bit to be able to stare up at Percival with barely-concealed terror.

“I-I'm sorry?” He squeaked.

“Do you want a tour?” Percival asked. Credence shook his head, quickly, and Percival gestured to the stairs. “There's a spare room by Newt’s. Or, if you'd rather, there's an extra room on the left that's not attached to anything.”

“I'll take the left.” Credence murmured. His trembles hadn't subsided, and he took a few hesitant steps. On the bottom stair he paused and turned his head to look at Percival. When he made a slight ‘shoo’ gesture, Credence offered him the barest hint of a smile and darted the rest of the way up the stairs. He too, opened a few doors before finding his room, though he wasn't as loud about it as Newt.

Percival sat down in his living room, massaging his temples and leaning against his knees. His house was silent in a way he'd never expected, being married to two people, and it was almost too much. He considered following his husbands’ example and going to bed, but he couldn't ignore how thin Credence felt when he’d taken his arm, or how Newt kept eyeing the spread of pastries without taking a single one.

He couldn't ignore the terrified gaze Credence wore as a default, or the hard press of Newt’s mouth as they said their vows. All Percival could think was that at twenty-one, he'd married both his partners and was already failing as their husband. Credence was no longer the soft baby he'd met so long ago, and Newt’s smile seemed to have disappeared with the years that had passed. He wondered if he should try and rectify the situation. He wondered if it was too late to do anything but suffer in silence; he debated the merits of turning in and leaving the problems of today for tomorrow.

Instead, he got up and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.


	2. Percival : Chapter 1

Chapter 1:  
Percival stood in his bedroom, staring at the door to his bedroom and debating. Neither of them had come down for dinner, and neither of them ate the food he'd left out for them. He wondered if it was worth it to leave without making breakfast, but he thought again about Credence’s weight and decided against it.

With a quiet sigh, Percival opened the door and stepped into his hallway.

His house was quite large, which was why both Credence and Newt ended up living with him. It had been in his family for generations, and he was quite pleased with his decision to move them into his house.

His room was at the end of a long hallway; several doors lined either side of it. One door, immediately to his left, lead to an attic space. Another, several paces down, lead to a bathroom. Across from it was the towel cabinet, and then Credence’s room by the bathroom. The doors were directly next to each other, and the bathroom connected to Credence’s room.

The stairs were in the center of the hallway, with a side table and a mirror reflecting the front door. Then it was a closet, for coats and such, a bathroom directly across the hall from Percival’s room, and two more guest bedrooms on either side of the hallway. Or rather, one guest bedroom and Newt’s room.

Percival wasn't sure which room Newt had taken, but it wasn't important right now. Neither of them had eaten dinner, and the smell of breakfast was sure to draw them out. He stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind him, and immediately froze when he saw Newt stepping out of the bathroom.

“Morning.” Percival said, just loud enough to be heard from across the hall. Newt instantly froze, his eyes wide and vaguely guilty-looking. Percival smiled, trying to set Newt at ease, but all it did was make the other man tense and his face fall into a blank expression. Percival stopped; he'd heard before that his smile was intimidating, and it clearly hadn't worked to make Newt relax.

“Morning, Mr. Graves.” Newt said in response, and Percival felt something in his chest ache. It's barely been a full twenty four hours and Newt was already rejecting him in a way he wasn't ready for. Swallowing heavily, Percival forced himself to keep walking; he stopped in front of the stairs and gestured down, noticing Newt hadn't moved from the door of the bathroom.

“Would you like some breakfast, Newt?” He said. “I was on my way to make some before I left for work.”

“I've eaten already, thank you, Mr. Graves.” Newt replied. He still hadn't moved, as if he was waiting for Percival to leave. His voice was polite and quiet, his hand flexing on the doorknob. “It's Mr. Scamander, if you will, please.”

A second rejection, much harsher than the first. Percival’s lips pursed, but he nodded once and began his descent down the stairs. He heard as Newt finally scampered away from the bathroom and the door slammed to his room. Sighing just a bit, Percival reached the bottom of his stairs and turned to his left to the kitchen.

He made a simple breakfast, French toast with eggs and bacon, enough to feed Newt even though he didn't want food. Credence had silently come in at some point, nearly giving Percival a heart attack when he turned to grab something and saw him hunched over at the table. Heart hammering, he decided against making it a big deal and instead turned back to the stove.

“Morning, Credence.”

“Morning, Mr. Graves.” Percival’s heart dropped a second time, though at least Credence didn't demand that he call him by his last name. The rest of the morning passed in silence, though he noted with some pride that Credence inhaled his food. Something warm settled in his stomach at that, and he ate his breakfast in a weary peace.

“Do you have any plans for today, Credence?” He asked as he stood up.

“No-not particularly.” Credence stammered as Percival took his plate away. He stopped, and Credence ducked his head, his face flushing delicately. Percival’s breath caught, just a bit, but he didn't let it deter him. He stood up when Percival placed the dishes in the sink, a weird look flashing over his face. “Oh, I could get that for you, Mr. Graves!”

“It's no trouble, Credence.” Percival said, alarmed.

“Oh, but. But.” Credence gulped a bit, and Percival noted the way he was trembling. With a small smile, he put his hand on Credence’s shoulder; almost instantly, Credence pulled away and hunched in on himself even more. In a whisper, he said, “you made breakfast, Mr. Graves. The least I should do is wash the dishes afterwards.”

“Are you sure?” Percival asked, working to make his voice kind. Credence shuddered, but nodded, his fingers picking hesitantly at his sleeves. “If you insist, then.” He moved out of the way, sure to give the boy plenty of space so that he could approach the sink.

“Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Graves.” Credence said quietly, and that was all Percival managed to get out of him for the rest of the morning.

XxX

“So.” Tina plopped into her seat next to Percival and grinned at him. He looked at her, his face unchanging and she looked as though she wanted to roll her eyes. “You got married yesterday, sir! After, what, eighteen years? You finally met them both!”

“Astute, Goldstein.” Tina made a face at that.

“Don't you ‘Goldstein’ me,” she said sternly. “we’ve been friends far too long, Mr. Graves. You simply must tell me how it went!” Percival didn't answer her, just looked back down at the paperwork he was filling out. Silence reigned for a short moment, and then she said, “oh. It's that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well.” Tina turned to her own paperwork, her quill already flying across the parchment. “Maybe you should give them some time. After all, Newt came from England, right? He must be homesick. And Credence, married at eighteen! Still a child, poor thing. He must be in shock.”

Percival thought of Newt, how he curtly dismissed him and insisted on ‘Mr. Scamander’ and ‘Mr. Graves’. He thought of Credence, of the way he trembled and the terrified look on his face when he mustered the courage to meet his eyes. Percival thought of the both of them, sleeping in guest bedrooms alone.

“Perhaps.” He admitted. Tina smiled gently at him, pausing in her paperwork to lean over and place her hand on his.

“I know you, Mr. Graves.” She said conspiratorially. “You'll win them over sooner than you can blink, I just know it. They're both very lucky to have someone like you.” Percival looked at her when she said it, looked at how serious she was.

She was not betrothed, he remembered. Tina Goldstein was one of the people who had the appropriate amount of magic for herself. She didn't have to marry, but she could if she wanted to, and she could choose her own partner if she wanted. Percival wondered what that was like, to lack the ability to feel another’s magic in one’s head like a piece of themselves. He wondered at when she got particularly quiet, as if she was imagining what it was like to be betrothed. He wondered how badly she wanted to be in his position, and how lucky she found him.

“Thank you, Tina.” He said softly. Tina beamed at him.

XxX

Percival was, he noted with a sour pride, an actual Auror. He'd graduated at the top of his class with honors and was recruited right away to work with MACUSA. Tina had been right behind him, the twenty year old a close friend since they met in her first year. She, technically, was still a junior Auror, and perhaps Picquery hadn't noticed how close they were; it was on his recommendation that Tina become an Auror.

So how, he wondered, could he not use his power in order to prevent Tina and Queenie from following him home?

The two women were chatting away happily behind him as he stalked forward, growing irritated with how he couldn't seem to lose them. He would just apparate away, but it would do him no good; the girls had been over to his house plenty of times over the past ten years. If he didn't bring them in the No-Maj way, Credence and Newt would be too startled to accommodate them properly. As it was, he wasn't entirely certain bringing them home wouldn't send Credence to scurrying into his room for the entirety of the night.

Nothing he could do about it now, though.

“Oh, Percival.” Queenie berated gently, latching onto his arm. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye; she was so different from her sister, in looks and personality. Still, he remembered all too well the thirteen year old with missing teeth and No-Maj braces to be taken in by her adult looks.

Perhaps that's why he's never been swayed by her appearance the way other men have.

“Don't you start.” He told her warningly. Queenie pouted a bit, but leaned into him just a little. Tina appeared on his other side, but she didn't try to take his arm; instead, she started a conversation with her sister about the merits of No-Majs, considering that Queenie had a betrothed but he was a No-Maj who didn't know she was real.

Percival frowned at the collection they made: a witch with no partner, he with the two that didn't seem to want him, and the witch with an illegal partner. What a trio they made, he thought, and couldn't keep the humorless laugh from escaping. Tina looked confused, but Queenie sent him a small smile that looked more melancholy than anything else and patted his arm as they approached his door.

“Give me a moment.” He said to the girls. Queenie nodded, holding back a pouting Tina who didn't seem to appreciate the delay. Percival sighed and headed to his door, pushing it open to discover the entryway was empty, as he thought. He motioned for the girls to come in, telling them to make themselves at home in the living room while he searched for Credence and Newt.

Credence, he discovered, was in his room. The boy had jumped about ten feet in the air when Percival stuck his head in through the open door, stammering and looking vaguely guilty even though he was just sitting on the bed.

“There's someone here to see you.” Percival told him, and the guilty look faded into something close to terrified. Percival wondered at that, but motioned for Credence to follow him. He got up slowly, looking like he would rather be doing anything else in the world.

Percival led him first to the opposite hall instead, knocking on one door and then the other. When Newt answered neither knock, Percival pulled open the door to find the room completely empty; he distinctly recalled the suitcase that Newt had brought, and closed the door feeling slightly foolish. He crossed the hall, knocking again on the other door a little more firmly.

Newt threw the door open this time, his face flushed and hair mussed. Percival’s breath caught, but Newt’s eyes had narrowed at the sight of him and he kept the door close to his body.

“Yes, yes, did you need something?” He demanded breathlessly. Taken aback by the tone, Percival could only manage a quiet sentence.

“We have company.”

“I don't have company.” Newt said, his chest heaving slightly. The wording sounded strange, and Percival could only helplessly gesture to his right, where Credence was standing and trembling.

“I said we have company.” He said. “They are here for the three of us.”

“Oh.” Newt made a face, not looking completely willing to leave his room. Still, he stepped out into the hallway, somehow managing to do so without opening the door any further so that Percival could see into the room. “Lead on, then.”

“One more thing.” Percival looked from both his partners, Credence looking terrified and Newt vaguely irritated as he closed the door. “They're old friends of mine. They wanted to meet you, and one of them is a Legilimens.”

“What's that?” Credence whispered, looking faint.

“A…” Newt stared, wide-eyed, at Percival. Now he looked vaguely terrified, and the fact did nothing to assuage Percival’s concerns. “It means she can read minds.”

“And they're both here to meet you.” Percival said firmly. “Be on your best behavior, please.” This was directed more at Newt than at Credence, and he seemed to pick up on it. He glowered at Percival, looking about as intimidating as a puppy as he ushered them both downstairs.

“Hi!” Queenie was the first to greet them when they came down the stairs, looking positively delighted to meet both of them. Credence shrank back, smiling hesitantly, but Newt beamed at her. The smile on his face made Percival’s heart stutter; it made his face open and friendly, and he looked something resembling happy for the first time in three days. “My name’s Queenie. And that's my sister, Tina. Oh, Percival, you told them!”

“Charmed,” Newt said. “He did, sorry. I'm sure that quite took the fun out of everything.” Queenie giggled as he kissed the back of her hand, though her gaze darted between the two of them suddenly.

“That's Percival.” She said, sounding a bit breathless and distracted. Percival frowned at her, wondered at asking her what was wrong, when she abruptly asked, “who’s Frank?”

The room froze. Newt looked slightly surprised, but mostly guilty. Tina looked murderous. Credence looked uncertain, and Percival…

He wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to feel.

“He's still here, isn't he?” Queenie asked insistently. She didn't seem to notice the rising tension in the room, clasping Newt’s hand in both of her own. Her eyes looked far away and distant, darting up to the second floor where Newt’s room was. “In your room. That's why you didn't want to come down to meet us. Will he be joining us tonight?”

“No.” Newt yanked his hand back, but it wasn't he who had spoken; Tina appeared by her sister so quickly she might have apparated there, glowering darkly at Newt. “Percival, if I may, a word, please?”

“Tina…”

“Now.” She pressed a quick kiss to Queenie’s cheek, nodded curtly at s Newt and flashed a friendly smile at Credence. Percival looked at both of his partners, feeling slightly helpless, before following Tina into his home office.


	3. Percival: Chapter 2

Chapter 2:  
“Frank?” Tina said pointedly, angrily. She was pacing the room, and Percival was sitting against the wood of his desk. Tina was gesturing a little as she walked, looking more pissed off than she really had a right to. “Frank? Did you know about this, Percival?”

“Of course not, Tina, would you just- - -” Tina whirled on him, pointing an accusing finger in his face.

“Oh, no, sir, no.” She said firmly. “You do not get to tell me to calm down, no!”

“You're making this a bigger deal than it already is.” Percival said. Tina let out a decidedly less than humorous laugh that Percival ignored. “I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation- - -”

“For a man named Frank to be in your house?” She said. Percival shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. “For a man named Frank to be in your house, and with your newly-wedded partner, might I add? In what world would there be a reasonable explanation for that?”

“I don't know!” Percival snapped. Tina looked at him, exasperated with her arms out. “Look, Tina, what do you want me to say?”

“Get angry!” Tina strode over to Percival, grabbing his arms and holding them in her hand. She looked sorry for him, and Percival felt his nose wrinkle in distaste. “C’mon, Percival, think about it!”

“He came from England, remember?” Percival said quietly. “He had a life before me, Tina, they both did. You can't expect them to drop everything just because they met me.”

“And how many partners have you had?” She asked.

“You know I haven't had any.” Percival said quietly. Tina sobered up quickly, and Percival crossed his arms. He hadn't had any hope that Newt wouldn't have any other partners before him; he'd decided long ago that Newt didn't particularly care for him, and it seemed silly now to be hurt when faced with the truth he'd prepared himself for. “But that's different, Tina. You can't expect for them to have waited just because I have.”

“I know.” She said. Stopping her pacing, Tina leaned against Percival and made a face. “But they can't be thinking that this sort of thing is-is ok, Percival.” He put a comforting hand in her hair, and she growled. “And how dare that man follow him here. Newt was to be married, and- - -”

“It was his life, Tina.”

“This is different, though!” Tina said earnestly. She broke away from him, pacing once again. “So much different! This is not, not my partner had a life before me. This is more my partner is having an affair two days into our marriage!” Percival groaned and Tina tried to soften her approach. “Just tell him that you won't put up with this.”

“All right.” Percival sighed. His voice was resigned, tired in a different way than usual. Tina hugged him, her hand carding softly through his hair. “I'll let him know that Frank has to leave as soon as possible, and is not to come back.”

“And?” She pressed.

“And that he can't keep living the way he'd been before.” Percival said. “He’ll have to give up that part of his life for good, because it will not be tolerated in my house.”

XxX

The next morning, Newt came down for breakfast. Credence, who had been tapping nervously on the table, stopped abruptly; it made Percival, who had been humming quietly to the beat he made, stop and turn from the stove. Newt stood awkwardly in the door, biting his lip and eyes downcast. They were red, Percival noted with alarm, and still watery.

“I’m.” He sniffed. His voice was thick and clogged, sounding hoarse. It looked like Newt had been crying all night, and Percival felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“Are you all right?” He asked, turning off the stove and turning to face Newt head on. The other man glowered at him, wiping at his eyes with one hand. Percival noted, with some alarm, that Newt had even opened the bond between them; there was an unfamiliar sorrow weighing his mind, heavy and devastating. “Newt, what's wrong?”

“I need to bring Frank home.” Newt said. He was wiping at one of his eyes, the other wrapped around his chest tightly. Percival felt his stomach drop, and he found himself at a loss when it came to responding.

He hadn't talked to Newt yet, which meant he’d heard his conversation with Tina. Did Percival feel guilty for making Newt go through with this? Was he supposed to feel vindicated that Newt chose him over this Frank? It was hard to feel anything other than remorse for making Newt feel this way, because the heartbreak in the other’s magic was so heavy. Percival felt bad, but the step he took in Newt’s direction was clearly unwanted; Newt glared at him, and Percival stopped.

“I'm going to bring him home.” Newt said tightly. His voice was more sure than Percival had ever heard it, and he couldn't find it in himself to argue. “I'm bringing Frank home, and then I'll come back here and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Percival didn't miss how Newt said ‘here’ and not ‘home’; didn't miss how Frank returning home, presumably England, was not the same as Newt returning to Percival's house. He let himself feel stung, then forcefully reminded himself that they'd all been married for about three days, and of course it wouldn't feel like home in three days.

“As you wish.” He said instead. Newt nodded once, decisively, and turned on his heel. Percival opened his mouth to call after him, then thought against it and turned back to the oven.

“Do you think Newt will come back home?” Credence asked from the table. Percival half-turned, surprise dancing over his features. Credence blushed a pretty red, ducking his head and tapping on the table again.

“I think he'll be back.” Percival answered honestly. Credence nodded twice, as if assuring himself some more, and then stood up. “Credence?”

“I'll start collecting the dishes, Mr. Graves.” Credence was standing hunched in on himself, as if he were trying to make himself smaller, but his eyes kept darting up to meet Percival’s. He counted that an improvement.

“As you wish.” He said, and allowed Credence to bustled around him while he cooked. It was a bit odd, cooking around someone else, but Percival found he got used to it fairly quickly. Newt wasn't seen for the remainder of the morning, but at least he was making some headway with his other partner.

XxX

Three months.

It had been three months since Newt had left to escort Frank back home. Percival was beyond angry, beyond frustrated with Newt. Credence couldn't seem to decide between some sort of weary relief and heartbroken confusion. He'd taken to sleeping with his door open, so that he could see Percival enter and leave his own room. Percival set up his alarms at first, so that he would be alerted when Newt got home.

Then he began sleeping downstairs, on the sofa, watching the door so intently he could know the second the man stepped into the house. Credence often hovered on the stairs, too uncertain to join Percival on the sofa and yet not willing to let Percival leave without his knowledge. Whenever the sun began creeping into the window, Percival would get up and carry Credence to his room. He'd make a quick breakfast, and then either head to work or work on some papers in his office.

He hadn't told Tina that Newt was missing, and he'd had to beg a disappointed Queenie to keep his secret. Credence was more withdrawn than usual, flinching away and keeping himself quiet; Percival began wondering if his temper with Newt was leaking out and affecting Credence.

His magic began going haywire in Newt’s absence; bottles breaking, papers vanishing, books flying off the shelf. Percival almost felt like a child again, learning to control his magic. Credence was fascinated with it, staring with wide and awed eyes whenever something happened that he hadn't expected. His eyes would light up and his excitement would cover his face when he turned to Percival.

The eldest thought he looked best with his smile. Percival didn't mind so much his outbursts of magic when they happened around Credence.

XxX

Towards the end of the fourth month of Newt’s absence, Percival noted with a start how much closer to Credence he'd managed to get.

Credence had graduated from the top of the staircase to the last stair, though he still hadn't managed to pull himself onto the sofa. He let Percival carry him to his room; the first time he'd woken up, Credence had panicked and caused Percival to nearly drop him, but he must have gotten used to it. He only woke up a few times, body tense for several seconds before he looked up and sleepy dark eyes met Percival’s.

“Go back to sleep,” he'd tell him, and Credence would do just that, his body relaxing into Percival’s hold.

Credence bustled around him regularly now when he was cooking, instead of waiting at the table for him to finish. He would take things as Percival put them down, sometimes so quickly that their fingers would brush along each other. His face would turn red when that happened, and he'd hurry away like he was afraid he'd get in trouble for it, but Percival found it adorable.

Credence’s magic began showing itself, slowly and uncertainly. It started with breakfast.

Percival had been focusing on the eggs and had mistakenly thought Credence was beside him. Instead of putting the bowl on the counter, Percival dropped it into the space where Credence had started standing, not realizing the boy was still on the other side of the kitchen. Credence had let out a startled shout, and Percival turned to see him by the sink; his hand was outstretched, as if he could have caught the bowl without moving, and he had. It hovered at Percival’s hip, spinning slowly in the air. Percival felt the beginnings of a smile on his face, proud of Credence for finally unleashing his magic.

But Credence dropped the bowl, the look on his face nothing but pure terror. He followed suit, curling into a ball and trembling violently. Percival was alarmed, not able to bring himself to move until Credence, without even looking up, held out a trembling hand palm up.

Stepping around the broken bowl, Percival cast a wordless ‘reparo’ with his wand, stopping in front of Credence’s bent form. Silently, he took the offered hand in his own, make sure to keep his touch gentle over the scars that crossed over his palms. Credence flinched away, his breath coming in stuttered gasps.

“Please,” he was saying quietly, barely able to speak because of his panic, “please, Mr. Graves, just…”

“Credence, Credence.” Percival got to his knees slowly, still holding his offered hand in a gentle grip. Credence look up at him from under his arm, tears welling up and falling so quickly that Percival couldn't help but feel lost.

“Make it fast.” Credence whispered through gasps. “Please, just…”

“Shh, Credence.” Percival drew him close, wrapping a careful arm around him. Credence’s breath hitched, and Percival rubbed a soothing hand over his back. They stayed that way, for some time, while Credence gathered himself together and Percival tried to comfort him as best as he could.

When Credence finally calmed down, he looked up at Percival with confusion. Tears were still welling up in his eyes, but they weren't falling anymore. His breath was coming in gasps still, but they were slowing down to regular breathing.

“I didn't mean to.” He said miserably. “I'm sorry, Mr. Graves.”

“You didn't mean to what, Credence?” Percival said, keeping his voice calm and light. It seemed to help calm Credence down a little more, even though his body was still tense.

“The-The magic.” He said. “It just happened, I swear it.”

“Credence, it's ok.” Percival half-turned with him still in his arms, starting to regret how carelessly he repaired the bowl. Credence sniffled, but watched quietly as Percival levitated the bowl back to the counter. “We can use magic here, Credence.”

“You won't be mad?” Credence asked in a smaller voice, and Percival wondered at the kind of childhood Credence had that he felt the need to ask that.

“No, Credence, I won't be mad.” Percival said soothingly. “I promise.” Credence shook a bit, but nodded.

That had been several days ago. He still stammered a lot, and fidgeted, and he wouldn't let Percival close enough to hug him properly without flinching away first, him carrying the boy to bed aside, but Percival was convinced he was making some headway with his youngest partner.

And then Newt came back.


	4. Alternative Prologue

Alternative Prologue: Newt Scamander  
“Child, you will be the death of me!” Seven year old Newt Scamander hid his latest find behind his back, his mouth twisting in an approximation of regret. The little stick creature danced on his palm, and Newt was determinedly ignoring the sharpness of its talons scratching at his palms.

“I'm sorry, Father.” Newt attempted to sound sorry, and knew by the exasperated sigh he got in response that he failed. The little creature- - -“a bowtruckle”, his mother had explained without looking away from the Hippogriff in front of her, “I'm fairly surprised you managed to capture it so easily”- - -climbed up his arm just as his father reached around and grabbed his hand.

Newt gasped in surprise, and his father seemed to think it was from the sudden grab; he gentled his grip and knelt down to look his son in the eye. Newt felt the creature climbing up his arm, and felt relief that his father hadn't actually squashed the creature.

“I'm telling you, Newt,” he said firmly, “I may be agreeable to these creatures in my house, but I've met your betrothed. And I can assure you, he will not tolerate this sort of thing when you are married.”

Newt scowled, and as if agreeing, felt a poke that came from his betrothed. Like he always did, he ignored it and pretended it hadn't happened. His mother often asked if it was happening. It was his partner’s magic, reaching out to him so that when they were married, their bond with each other would be strong. It was especially important in a partnership like his, where he had two partners instead of one. She'd been excited for it, because she’d experienced it when she'd been partnered with his father, and she had been certain that it would repeat again with him. But Newt hadn't ever told her that he felt the prods of one of his partners, let alone that it wasn't consistent and only happened every so often. He didn't want her to know. He didn't want to know himself.

He didn't know the name of his betrothed, either one of them, and didn't care to. His attention was on more important things, like the little bowtruckle climbing up his arm, and the hundreds of other creatures that roamed the earth. He had no time to waste on either one of them, and he was certain that they felt the same.

XxX

Twelve year old Newt hunched in on himself, twisting his hands over and over in his lap. At his side was a baby niffler, burrowing into his side. Armando Dippet was staring down at him critically, his eyes narrowed. Beside him was Dumbledore, whose gaze was far more sympathetic and amused than the headmaster’s. It was here that Newt directed his gaze, finding a little comfort in the warm look Dumbledore was giving him.

“You are,” Professor Dippet checked his registry again, “Newton Artemis Fido…a Scamander!” His gaze fell on Newt again. “Related to Theseus Scamander, am I right?”

“My brother.” Newt responded automatically. Professor Dippet sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking critically at Newt. Newt wondered what the man saw when he looked at him; he knew what a lot of people saw when they looked at him.

“That niffler has wreaked havoc in the Hufflepuff dormitory.” He said severely, instead of commenting on his relations to his brother. “In the boys dormitory, the common room, and it was heading towards the girls when we finally caught it. What say you, Scamander?”

“He wasn't doing anything dangerous!” Newt said immediately, his hand landing protectively on the niffler. He nuzzled his hand affectionately, and Newt smiled down at him fondly.

“That thing is a menace!” Dippet snapped. “We never have to deal with this with your brother, Scamander. Where did you even find it?”

“In the Forbidden Forest.” Newt said hesitantly. He ducked his head, patting the Niffler’s head. There it was, the comparison to his brother, however passing . It always seemed to come up the most when he was in trouble. “He was…lost. From his family, I think.” Professor Dippet’s eyes shut, the man looking as though he were praying for patience.

“Ah, leave the boy be, Armando.” Dumbledore said. Newt’s gaze darted to him, the Transfiguration teacher looking slyly back at him. “He meant no harm, and the little thing is clearly not malicious. I'm sure we can overlook this one incident, provided it does not happen again.”

“Now, Albus, please.” Professor Dippet took one look at Dumbledore and sighed. “Come now, Albus. We have to help prepare these kids for the real world. Muggles would not look kindly on magical creatures leaking into their world. For Merlin’s sake, even Percival Graves would frown at these things happening in his house!”

Newt frowned, his hand stilling on the niffler. There was that name again, following him around here as it did at home. It sounded vaguely familiar, like something Newt had heard before and quite forgotten, and for the life of him, he couldn't bring the recollection to mind.

“Yes, but he is young now.” Dumbledore was telling Professor Dippet. “He has plenty of time for exploration before Mr. Graves attempts to snuff it out.”

“And snuff it out he shall, hm?” Professor Dippet sighed. “Of course Dumbledore. You're free to go, Scamander, and take that creature with you.” Beaming and saying his thanks, Newt picked up the niffler and headed towards the door. He had just made it passed the threshold, out of sight of both professors, when he heard something that made him pause.

“That boy will never be anything like his brother, will he? That Percival Graves will have quite the challenge on his hands. And two partners? Poor boy will be lucky not to have two partners like Newt Scamander.”

XxX

Tall and gangly, Newt hid in the darkness of the doorway, listening to his parents as they discussed the recent expulsion from Hogwarts. He felt terrible about it, he did, truly, but he couldn't allow anything to happen to Leta or the jarvey and he couldn't make anybody understand that she wasn't dangerous, she really wasn't, that student had provoked her. It was the only option he had available to him, and he couldn't find it in himself to regret it even now.

Besides, Dumbledore liked him; he always had, much more than any of his other teachers. He knew that if anyone could fix his mistakes, it would be his Transfiguration teacher.

“I don't know what we're going to do.” His mother sighed into her hands. Her breathing was hitched even though her voice was steady, and Newt could tell she was definitely crying. It made him feel even worse. “We’ve told him again and again, and he won't listen!”

“Just give him some more time.” His father was rubbing her back, leaning against her chair just enough to make his support known. His voice was heavy, though he didn't sound like he was crying; just like he was disappointed. Newt felt his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach at the tone. His stomach turned to lead as he continued with, “after all, it's only about a year and a half, I think, until he's married. Percival Graves will put a stop to this ‘beast hunting’ Newt is so insistent on.”

“But what if he doesn't?” She asked him quietly. “Could you stand another embarrassment like this?” Newt reeled back, feeling quite as though he'd been slapped across the face.

He slammed back into his brother, who looked grim but unsurprised. Theseus put gentle hands on his shudder and pulled him away. He didn't say anything until they were safely in his room, two floors up.

“Newt…”

“Did you hear that?” Newt ranted, pacing the moment the door shut. “An embarrassment, she said! Can you believe that?”

“Newt.” Theseus’s tone made Newt pause, and he looked at his older brother tentatively. He looked serious; his brow was furrowed and his mouth was turned down. “I don't think you understand how serious this is.”

“Theseus, Leta- - -”

“Is the problem that you have.” Theseus told him firmly. Newt opened his mouth, but his brother spoke over him and didn't let him defend himself. “She's a Lestrange, little brother, and you know what her family’s like. She's using you to her own end, and you're playing right into her hands.”

“She's my friend.” Newt told him.

“She wants you to think that.” Theseus told him sharply. “She's a taker, and now she's taken the most important thing you need: your education. How much more will you let her take? What would Percival say?”

Newt was stunned into silence for a long moment, his mind racing as he thought. Who was Percival? Why should he have any say in what Newt did with his life, or his friends? For a moment, he could only stare at his brother, perplexed.

Until something nudged at the back of his mind, and he had a sudden understanding of who Theseus was talking about.

“I don't know, and I don't care.” Newt said quietly, his voice tinged with anger and betrayal. His throat was closing, because not even his brother was on his side, and Theseus was always on his side. The room felt small, suddenly, and there was another prod in the back of his mind that he always ignored.

“Newt…”

“I have to check on the Hippogriffs.” Newt said stiffly. He turned and left, ignoring his brother as he called after him and going out the side door so he didn't have to face his parents.

XxX

Newt stood in the little room by himself, staring at his reflection with resignation. He was wearing his finest dress robes, of course, as was his entire family. He hadn't seen either of his partners, not just yet, and he was more than content to keep it that way. His parents were out there, talking with the other parents, and Theseus was out there with them. Newt wished, not for the first time, that Pickett could be with him; his father had expressly forbade him from bringing the little bowtruckle, and his mother had seconded it.

The door opened and Newt whirled around, his heart stopping and his eyes wide. It was his mother, stepping into the room daintily and closing the door behind her. The chatter from outside, momentarily brought into his quiet room, was silenced again instantly.

“Look at you.” His mother had been teary-eyed all morning, and Newt noticed that she was so again. She looked very excited, and Newt couldn't help the tears that sprang into his own eyes.

“Mum…” He said, his voice thick and unhappy. She made a soothing noise, cupping his face and brushing away the tears that escaped his eyes.

“This isn't a bad thing, Newt.” She whispered quietly. “The others are excited, I'm sure. You're the only one treating this as a death sentence.” Newt felt his face crumble and he couldn't stop the sob that came from his throat. His mother pulled him close, making shushing noises while Newt tried to compose himself.

He wasn't crying for himself, despite what his mother probably thought. He was upset for all the creatures he wouldn't be able to help, the ones he'd saved that he would have to give up when they were discovered, because there was no way he'd be able to keep them secret for very long.

Then he pulled away from his mother, wiping his eyes and turning away to compose himself. Straightening his shoulders, Newt took a deep breath and headed into the main room to meet his husbands.


	5. Newt: Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to take a moment to say: you guys are damn fast. XD I love your reviews, thank you guys so much!!

Newt Chapter 3:  
Newt had been in Egypt for several weeks when he felt the pull. He'd been in his suitcase, tending to Frank and his creatures, when the magic at the back of his head flared to life. With a rather vague smile at Frank, who'd shuffled in place nervously, Newt clambered to his little shack; climbing up the ladder, he was only very slightly surprised to see the family owl knocking at his window.

“Lance, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he opened the window. The owl cooed at him oddly, landing on the desk of the hotel room and holding out his leg expectantly. Ruffling the owl’s feathers, Newt gave him a treat as he untied the parchment from his leg. Lance made another noise, then took off; Newt watched him go, wondering what news he brought that didn't require a reply back.

‘Newt,’ the letter read, ‘your youngest partner, one Credence Barebone, has become of age to be married as of April 27. The ceremony should commence as soon as possible in order to secure the strongest one possible between you and your partners. They await you in New York City, at the home of one Percival Graves.   
Many regards,’

There were several signatures at the bottom of the page, nearly a dozen that Newt counted. He sighed, glancing down at Pickett as the bowtruckle clambered out of his pocket and onto his shoulder.

“I knew it was going to happen eventually.” Newt told him after a quiet pause. “I just didn't expect it so soon.” Pickett chittered at him, and Newt put a hand over his little head. “Hush, Pickett. I can't avoid going.”

Newt knew what would happen if he stayed away for too much longer; already his magic was lashing out in little ways because it had no channel when it got too strong. That's what arranged marriages were for. They put together people whose magic would otherwise overwhelm them and gave them a way to channel it without causing destruction. And if it's three partners to a marriage…

“I don't exactly have a choice in the matter, Pickett.” Newt sighed. He looked over the short letter once again, the parchment feeling heavy in his hand. With a quiet exhale, Newt stood up and dusted himself off. “One more round inside the case, then,” he said. “To check on Frank. Then to New York.”

XxX

Frank was on his mind throughout the entire ceremony, Newt wasn't ashamed to admit it. His unhappiness made all of his creatures uneasy, and Frank was still in a recovery period. He was out of the woods, so to speak, but Newt had barely been able to feed him. He was distracted all throughout the ceremony, and what little gathering they had afterwards. His parents had stayed by his side the entire time, preventing him from escaping.

He wasn't even really paying attention when Percival brought the both of them home. There was a moment when Newt dashed up the stairs, saying something like ‘no, thanks, have a good night’, and then he opened a bathroom door and a closet door before finding an empty room. He slammed the door shut and locked it, setting his suitcase on the floor and scrambling down it as quickly as he was able.

It had been the whole day he hadn't managed to get away, and he was sure his creatures were starving. Dougal was staring forlornly at the ladder when Newt saw him, two baby occamies in his arms. They chittered at him angrily, and Newt made a soothing sound back at them.

“Mummy’s here, darlings, I'm so sorry.” Newt grabbed his food, feeding the two and Dougal quickly before heading out.

The creatures were irritated with him, Newt could tell. All the bowtruckles stayed hidden in their tree, and several of the moon calves didn't butt against him like they usually did. Newt felt a bit helpless in the face of their anger, knowing that there wasn't anything he could have done to avoid this, and resolved himself to holding their grudge for the next couple of days.

It took him most of the night to feed everyone and to tend to Frank, whose leg had begun bleeding while he was away. Frank was distrustful of him at first, not letting Newt near him so that the wizard could tend to his leg.

When he finally climbed out of his suitcase again, promising his creatures that he would be right back, the sun was already up again. Newt groaned a bit, stretching, then went to shower. There was an awkward moment when he ran into Mr. Graves, who asked him about breakfast.

“It's Mr. Scamander, if you will, please.” Newt had told him, after he said he'd already eaten. He'd watched Mr. Graves’ face fall, and found himself wondering if the man was upset because he was skipping breakfast, or because of the insistence of the family names.

Newt found he couldn't bring himself to care. He refused to love someone who would, sooner rather than later, tell him to give up his creatures. Newt wouldn't, of course, no matter the disappointment of his parents or Mr. Graves, and he'd waited until the man was down the stairs before rushing back to his own room.

XxX

Lunchtime rolled around, and Newt decided that Frank was in good enough condition to fly around for a short time. Rather than make him feel as though he was being timed, Newt trusted Frank to know when he should land; he left the suitcase a second time that day, ready to eat something other than prepackaged food.

With a sigh and a twist of his back, Newt was back in the room and out the door. The house was big and quiet, not something he was used to, and the silence set him on edge. Newt stepped down the stairs, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw the youngest sitting on the sofa alone.

“Oh!” The boy stood up immediately, hunching in on himself and staring up at Newt from a downcast face. He was deathly pale, especially against the black of his clothes, and he was trembling finely. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Newt said awkwardly. He hadn't been expecting anyone to be home. Actually, now that he thought about it, there was a third person, right? Which meant that- - -“You must be Credence.”

“That's right, Mr. Scamander.” Credence gave him a lopsided smile that came out as more of a grimace. “I, um, thought you had left earlier. After Mr. Graves had.”

“Ah, no.” Newt shuffled in one spot. “Where is he, exactly?”

“Work?” Credence shrugged. “He left hours ago, when breakfast was finished. We saved some for you! Um, I think it should be warm. Still, I mean.” Credence ducked down again, and Newt was oddly reminded of one of his shyer creatures. “It should be. Um, Mr. Graves. He, uh, he used…magic.” The word was whispered quietly, dark eyes darting around.

“Right.” Newt said slowly. He continued down the stairs, much more slowly than he had been before. Credence ducked away, going to the other end of the sofa rather than returning to his spot. “I'll go…eat then.”

“Ok.” Credence smiled at Newt again, and he escaped into the kitchen. On the counter was the remains of French toast and eggs, and Newt ignored the plate entirely in favor of digging through the pantry. He made himself a quick sandwich instead, telling himself that it was much easier to just have lunch rather than breakfast at this late hour.

Then he darted past Credence, smiling over his shoulder at the younger wizard before slamming into his room and locking the door once again.

XxX

Frank was healing much faster than anticipated- - -not that Newt really knew anything, because honestly, who would get the chance to study a thunderbird up close like this?- - -and Newt was quite pleased with the creature. He'd taken to actually relaxing in the room he'd claimed, because the bed was much more comfortable, with Pickett on his shoulder and the occamies wrapped around his arms. He'd set up silencing charms because they were quite vocal, and- - -

Damn that niffler!

Newt scrambled off his bed, lunging for the little black creature trying to sneakily make his way out of the room. The niffler made a loud noise of surprise, making Newt thankful for the silencing charm, and scrambled on the ground to get away. He just managed it, causing Newt to stumble and hit the wall. The occamies flew off with loud chittering, discontent with his sudden movement.

He twisted around, throwing himself towards where he thought the little guy would be, only to have him slip through his finger again. Cursing quietly under his breath, Newt pulled out his wand and shot a spell at the ground so that the niffler would stick to the floor; the niffler jumped over it easily, scrambling towards the window in his bid for freedom. Newt shot over, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck at the very last second.

Panting just a bit, Newt held the niffle up to his face, trying not to break his glower with a smile at the innocent look the niffler was trying to adopt.

“I saw that.” He said warningly. His niffler shrugged, and- - -

Newt jumped so high that he nearly dropped the niffler at the sudden knock on his door. He froze, staring wide-eyed at the wooden barrier for only a brief moment before exploding into action. The occamies and the niffler were herded into his case quickly, and Newt had barely had time to clasp it shut and make sure it was secure before the knocking returned.

Just barely checking to make sure Pickett was hidden, Newt practically threw the door open to find Mr. Graves on the other side of it. He panicked when Mr. Graves mentioned company; do creatures count as company?

“I don't have company.” He blurted out. Almost instantly, he regretted it; Mr. Graves’ gaze moved from his hair, which had fallen to disarray, to his flushed face and heaving chest. Newt mentally scolded his niffler, resisting the urge to check over his shoulder to ensure his suitcase was staying shut.

And then he mentioned his Legilimens friend, and Newt felt his heart stop. A Legilimens would mean that his case would be discovered tonight, and Newt wasn't ready to give up his creatures. He wouldn't ever be, but he would break very quickly if he lost them now.

And he couldn't help it, really; he was their Mummy at heart, and so Frank crossed his mind as he thought of him in his room, alone.

“Who's Frank?” Queenie asked him, and Newt felt his world shatter with the two words. He would have thought they were innocent because of the way she said it, except for the fact that there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she spoke.

And then Tina and Mr. Graves vanished into what Newt presumed was his office, and he tuned out everything around him. He wanted to defend his case, quite literally, but something kept him rooted in place.

‘ _He will not tolerate this sort of thing when you are married._ ’

‘ _Poor boy will be lucky not to have two partners like Newt Scamander._ ’

“I have to save them.” Newt gasped quietly. He didn't hear what Queenie asked him, didn't hear what Credence said. Newt Scamander took a deep breath and strode confidently over to the door, hoping that his hands were not shaking as obviously as he felt they were. His breath came in small gasps, and it wasn't until he was preparing to knock that he heard what they were saying.

“Just tell him that you won't put up with this.” That was Tina’s voice, sounding furious and protective. Her voice raised and lowered, though she wasn't consciously making the effort; she must have been pacing.

“All right.” That was Mr. Graves. He sounded very tired already, and Newt felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. “I'll let him know that Frank has to leave as soon as possible, and is not to come back.”

“And?” 

“And that he can't keep living the way he'd been before. He’ll have to give up that part of his life for good, because it will not be tolerated in my house.”

Newt stumbled back, tears welling up in his eyes faster than he could stop it. He wasn't even given the chance to defend them; his parents, his professors, everyone had been right. He was the only one who wanted to keep them, and his heart broke.

Pickett. His niffler. His baby occamies, Frank, the moon calves, even Dougal. Mr. Graves wanted him to get rid of them all, and Newt couldn't. He couldn’t, not now, not ever. There had been a small part of him that hoped that if Newt could prove they weren't dangerous…

But Mr. Graves wasn't even giving him the chance to _try_.

With a shuddering breath and a sob, Newt turned and fled to his room.


	6. Percival: Chapter 4

Chapter 5:  
Newt came home late.

Percival had waited until two, like he normally did. Then he'd stood up, picking up Credence easily and carrying him up the stairs. He put him in bed gently, using soothing strokes of his own magic to keep Credence asleep. Percival had been pulling up the covers on Credence’s bed when he straightened suddenly.

Something felt off, but he wasn't sure what.

His alarm hadn't been triggered, so it wasn't that. Credence’s magic was still unpredictable, but he had never done anything while sleeping, so it couldn't be anything he was doing. Percival put his hand in Credence’s hair as he thought, a frown furrowing his brow.

Something wasn't right.

He left Credence in his room to sleep, making sure to close the door softly behind him. Keeping his footsteps light, Percival went back downstairs and sat on the sofa, putting his elbows on his knees and holding his clasped hands in front of his mouth. His dark eyes searched the downstairs area, sweeping from one side of the room to the other and back.

Around four in the morning, right before it was set to get light, Percival’s wards were triggered. He didn't move, his eyes snapping to the door just as Newt pushed it open silently. His body was tensed, his grip on his suitcase tight, and his eyes searching until they landed on Percival.

“Mr. Graves.” He said breathily, his voice tinged with shock. He'd taken a step back, but the door was closed already and he had nowhere to go. His breath caught in his throat. “You were waiting on me?”

“A man should make sure his husbands are safe and sound at home when he can.” Percival said, a touch sarcastically. There wasn't any point in trying to deny it; it was fairly obvious why he would be where he was so early in the morning. He stood up, twisting his torso so that his back cracked. “It's quite late. Perhaps we should get some sleep and discuss this in the morning.”

“And what do you think we should discuss?” Newt asked quietly, pulling his case in front of him protectively. Percival sighed tiredly, striding towards the stairs.

“We’ll talk in the morning, Newt.” He said in lieu of an answer. “Sleep well.”

XxX

Newt sat to his left at the table. Credence was on his right. Percival sat at the head of the table, looking between both of them. It was a square table, he noted, but it didn't stop Newt from trying to be as far away from him as possible.

“We have been married, legally,” he started, “for just about five months.” Credence gave him a nervous look, hunching his shoulders in. Newt looked sullen, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to add something. Percival waited in both of them to say something, then continued. “Yet the three of us are still strangers. That isn't how a marriage should work.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Credence asked quietly.

“You and I have been having breakfast together.” Percival told him kindly. Credence gave him a small smile. “I suggest that Newt begin joining us. For breakfast or for dinner, as long as he's present at one meal.”

“What if I disagree?” Newt muttered sullenly. Percival and Credence both turned to him in surprise.

“It's not a requirement.” Percival said at last. He wondered if he was the only one who felt wounded by the words, and noticed out of the corner of his eye how Credence flinched away from Newt. He felt bad for the boy, but he couldn't make Newt bend to his will just because he wanted him to. “I won't force you to come eat with us, Newt. I'm just offering it as a suggestion so that we may begin to know one another properly, so that our marriage is strong and our bond flourishes.”

“Mr. Scamander.” Newt said insistently.

“Right.” Percival said quietly. He looked down, his jaw clenching just a little at the reminder. He and Credence had just spent the last almost five months calling him Newt, and he hadn't remembered the man’s last-name-basis-only rule. Without a word, Percival stretched his hand out. Newt stared back defiantly, though his hands had begun trembling finely against the wood of the table.

Percival summoned the marriage certificate from his office and laid it bare on the table. Summoning a quill and inkwell, he put them on the table as well.

The left side was filled out, stating that one ‘Percival Graves’, ‘Credence Barebone’ and ‘Newton Artemis Fido Scamander’ were legally wedded as of the 29 of April. The right side was blank, save for Percival’s own signing of his first name. The minister in charge had wanted to give them all the name Graves and be done with it, but Percival had managed to convince him otherwise. He hadn't been sure then, that they would want his name as their own.

It stung so much to be proven right.

“That's another matter for us to discuss.” He said instead. “I wasn't sure how you would want to proceed legally in terms of names.”

“I don't want mine.” Newt and Percival’s gazes both snapped to Credence, who ducked his head. His face was fully crimson, his shoulders hunched, but his voice was the most assured Percival had ever heard it. “I have no fondness for my name, and no desire to keep it. If you'd agree, I'd-I'd like to take yours, Mr…I’d take yours, Percival.”

Percival felt his heart stop in his chest, his breath catch in his lungs. Credence was peering up at him, a hopeful sort of look in his dark eyes. Percival took a shuddering breath, and his hand was trembling just as softly as Newt’s was as he handed the quill wordlessly to Credence. The youngest signed with a flourish; underneath ‘Percival Graves’ in his own writing, ‘Credence Graves’ was added in a sort of loopy scrawl.

He handed the certificate to Newt, who signed it as ‘Newt Scamander’. Percival couldn't even bring himself to be too badly stung about it; Newt was more difficult, but he was boosted by the way Credence had accepted his name so easily.

Newt handed him the certificate, and Percival reached it and touched his fingers rather than the paper. Newt looked surprised, his breath catching in his throat at the contact. Percival thought, his brow furrowing in concentration, about how he was about to word his idea to Newt.

“If I may,” he said quietly, “you looked like you were quite comfortable with yourself when you returned to the house last night.” He didn't say home, didn't say ‘to us’; Percival was not trying to scare Newt or guilt trip him, but he wanted to make himself abundantly clear.

“I was.” Newt admitted. “I wasn't here. I'm much more comfortable on the road, to be honest.”

“Could I ask a favor from you?” Percival said. Newt’s eyes narrowed, his shoulders hunching in on themselves. Percival gathered his courage, and said, “instead of just vanishing, could you tell us where you are and how long you'll be gone?”

“What?” Newt gasped, at the same time Credence squeaked in shock.

“I worry.” Percival said bluntly. “And Credence does too, I know he does. You vanished for almost five months, with no word as to where you were or when you were coming back. All I ask is that you send word at least once while you're gone, and not to stay away for longer than six months. Is that too much to ask?”

“I…no.” Newt agreed, sounding thunderstruck and gaping at him across the table. “A letter? You'll let me travel?”

“I want you both to be happy.” Percival told him. “If travel makes you happy, then you should travel. All I ask is that when you're here, with myself and Credence, you join us for a meal. And that you send word, so that we both know you're alive and well, whatever it is you're doing.”

It was a big risk, Percival knew. He was, in a roundabout way, allowing Newt an opportunity to see Frank again. Tina would be furious when she found out, but he couldn't help it; she hadn't felt how heartbroken Newt’s magic was, and she didn't feel the guilt Percival did for trying to force two people to be happy in a marriage only he wanted. Marriage was supposed to be about sacrificing. Even if he was the only one, he would be damned before he let his marriage fail.

“Anything else we should discuss?” Percival asked quietly. They say in silence for a moment, and he put his hand down on the table. Standing up, he cracked his neck and began heading towards the refrigerator to begin breakfast.

“M…” Newt’s hand shot out and grabbed a hold of his wrist. Percival turned, more out of surprise than any force Newt had put into holding him in place. He still looked wildly surprised, a red flush covering his face.

“Mr. Scamander?” Percival prompted, and Newt’s gaze shot to his.

“Newt.” He said, gasping a little. “You can call me Newt.”


	7. Percival: Chapter 5

Chapter 6:  
“Percival?” He looked up, careful not to let his frustration show on his face. The illegal animal ring that he'd been working on finding was so difficult; they were moving the animals up to three days before Aurors arrived on the scene. Still, his frustration wasn't to be taken out on Credence. Percival thought that his youngest husband was similar to a wounded animal himself: wanting affection, but skittish and nervous when anyone reached out to him.

“Yes, Credence?” He said tiredly, rubbing at his face and putting his notes to the side. Credence was hovering in the doorway, a book in his hand and a nervous look on his face. He kept glancing to the side, as if he wasn't sure whether his presence was tolerated or not. “Did you need help with something?”

“N-No, ah…” Credence seemed to steel himself, then blurted out, “if you don't mind, could-could I possibly, maybe, read in here? With-With you?” Percival blinked, surprised, and surreptitiously glanced around his office.

It was a fairly big space, he reasoned. His desk sat in the middle of the room, next to the biggest window along the wall. There was a bookshelf directly opposite his desk, and the door was to his left. There was only one chair, and it didn't look very comfortable, but he could remedy that fairly quickly.

“Of course, Credence.” He said. Standing up, Percival reached out and wordlessly summoned his wand from across the room. Credence’s eyes went wide with awe again, like they always did when Percival did magic, and he was struck with sudden inspiration. “I just need to make a more comfortable seat for you. Would you like to try it?”

“Oh, I-I don't know if I should.” Credence said hesitantly, but Percival could see the want in his eyes. He smiled, softly, and beckoned Credence to come over.

“How about we start small, ok?” He said as Credence came to a stop next to him. “I'll transfigure the chair. And you can move it across the room to be put wherever you want it to be, ok?” Credence smiled, the expression flickering a little as excitement seemed to get to him.

Percival turned to the wooden chair by his desk and waved his wand; almost immediately, it began stretching itself out. He made it a little bit wider and a lot longer, so it resembled a love seat more than an actual chair. Being careful to make it as soft to the touch and as comfortable to sit on as possible, Percival nodded once at the look of wonderment on Credence’s face.

“It's your turn.” He said when he was finished. Credence suddenly turned several shades of red, looking shyly at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I-I don't know how.” Credence admitted slowly.

“That's ok.” Percival told him gently. He turned his wand around, holding it handle out so that Credence could take a hold of it. His hand was shaking, just a little bit, and Credence looked a mixture of awed and scared as he held onto the wand.

“What do I do now?” He asked quietly. Percival stepped around Credence so that he was standing directly behind him. Absently, he put one hand on Credence’s waist and wrapped his other hand around Credence’s on his wand.

“First,” he said in Credence’s ear, “we’ll levitate it. It's a wrist movement: swish and flick.” As Percival said it, he demonstrated the movement to Credence. His breath kept catching in his throat, the younger sounding almost terrified, but he didn't back away and he didn't tell Percival to step away.

Percival stayed where he was.

“Swish and flick.” Credence muttered. “And then what?”

“We’ll say ‘wingardium leviosa’.” Percival said patiently. “You're a beginner, and you don't have a wand of your own, so it might be a bit difficult on you. We need to both get you a wand and continue teaching you so that you learn.”

“If I learn…” Credence took a breath, “if I learn, will it become as natural as yours and Newt’s?” He sounded so hopeful, it made Percival’s heart ache. He closed the inch of separation between them, his arm wrapping more fully around Credence’s waist and his mouth pressing a soft kiss into his neck; the first time he'd touched Credence without the other boy flinching away since their wedding.

“Even more so.” He told him. Credence shuddered against him, his wand hand shaking more perceptibly even with Percival’s wrapped around it. “You're very powerful, Credence, more so than you even know. Once you master your magic, there will be no one to stop you.” He pulled away just a bit, standing to the side so that Credence would be able to do it on his own. “But we’ll start small, for now. Swish and flick. ‘Wingardium Leviosa.’ Try it now.”

“Wingardium Leviosa.” Credence mumbled, and the sofa Percival made didn't move. He pressed against Credence’s shoulder, making him stand straighter.

“You must be clear with your intent and your words.” Percival said. “Be loud. Enunciate, ok? ‘Win- _gar_ -dium levi- _o_ -sa’. Try again.” Credence followed his instructions; the sofa shook, making a motion similar to a hop, and fell still. Percival smiled anyway, enjoying the burst of Credence’s magic along the back of his head. “Good job, Credence! Try again.”

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Credence let it a startled laugh as the sofa groaned but rose, hovering two or three inches off of the ground. His eyes were bright, excitement clear across his face in a way that made Percival’s mouth dry and his stomach flutter; he'd never seen Credence so happy before. “Did you see? I did it!”

“Good, Credence, very good!” Percival smiled back. He gestured to the sofa again. “Almost done. Try using your will to put it wherever you want it.” Credence turned back to the sofa, biting his lip in concentration. He moved the wand to the side, and the sofa moved with it. With another startled laugh, Credence turned in place, moving the sofa easily until it was put in front of the big window, right behind Percival’s desk. The sofa hovered in place, not moving, and Credence shot a look at Percival.

“How do I get it down?” He asked.

“‘Finite Incantatum.’” Percival said. Credence repeated his words, and sofa plopped gently onto the floor. Percival watched as he all but ran to the sofa, jumping onto it and wiggling into it with a satisfied sigh. Percival went back to his own desk; suddenly, his case didn't seem quite so frustrating now that he'd taken a quick break.

“Hey, Percival?” He hummed and turned back to Credence, watching as he snuggled into the sofa with his book by his side. His dark eyes were bright and shining, and he looked at Percival almost as if the man had hung the moon himself.

“Yes, Credence?”

“Do-Do you really think that I…” He trailed off and shrugged, though his smile never left his face. “That I could be that powerful? Like Newt? And you?”

“Of course.” Percival answered instantly. Credence's flushed with pride, bringing his book up to cover the smile on his face as it widened. “Look at what you managed to accomplish with no training whatsoever and a wand that wasn't even yours.” He let out a short breath. “Yes, Credence, I have no doubt that you will be just as powerful as we are.”

“Thank you.” Credence whispered. He didn't say anything else after that, opening his book and losing himself in the pages.

XxX

Several days later, to Percival’s quiet amusement and Credence’s open astonishment, Percival took Credence to get his wand.

Newt was out for the day, naturally, off doing whatever it was that he normally did; he generally appeared for breakfast, sitting uselessly in his chair at the table until Credence pushed a hot mug of tea into his hands. Afterwards, he'd magic his dishes clean and then vanish for the day, only letting Percival know at the very last moment that he was still here, just now around.

But Percival had the day off, and Tina was insisting that the man needed a new suit, and so he found himself stopping by Credence’s door in order to ask him if he wanted to go. He was almost afraid Credence would say no, but when Percival mentioned the prospect of getting him a wand…

Well, he would never have been able to convince Credence to stay behind if he had to.

Credence wasn't used to side-along apparition yet, and Percival wasn't looking forward to teaching him about that particular bit of magic just yet. He didn't want to make him sick for the trip, and so they walked instead to a quiet, unassuming café with light blue windows.

“What's this?” Credence asked, his eyes roaming around the nice place they found themselves in. Percival directed him to the kitchen, waving at one of the baristas as they passed. She held a hand up with a bored look, not even glancing their way.

“It's a café.” Percival told him as they made their way past the baristas in the back. Credence shot him a look, clearly trying not to smile, and Percival yielded. “It's called ‘Josiah’s Coffee Shop and Bakery’, and it's quite popular amongst us.” He held the back foot of the kitchen open, letting Credence out and shutting the door.

“Why’s…” Credence trailed off, looking awed, and Percival smiled just a bit at his expression.

They'd entered, not to the back alley of a café, but a bustling street that was lined with magic. Credence half-turned, astonished, staring open-mouthed at the wonders around them.

“This is Jackson’s Square.” Percival explained. He took Credence by the arm and led him down the street, watching with amusement as Credence took in their surroundings. “It's one of our shopping districts, the most popular one in New York.”

Witches and wizards littered the sidewalks, most clutching bags to their chest. Some of them had their wands out, a lot of them had younger children with them, or young adults who clearly had just graduated. Magic was thrumming in the air, and it was clear that Credence didn't know which way to look.

“Wow.” Credence breathed.

“Never been to Jackson’s?” Percival asked as he steered him into a shop labeled ‘Shikoba: Wands And Wand Necessities’. Credence hunched in on himself at that, his shoulders pulling up to his ears.

“Ah, no…” He said quietly. “Ma died when I was little and…well…” He cleared his throat. “But I'm here now. It's amazing, Percival.”

“Is that the voice of a young wizard I hear?” Shikoba’s voice came from high above them, and Credence very visibly jumped when they landed suddenly in front of them. They peered at him closely. “Mm, yes, very good very good.” Their eyes slid from Credence to Percival. “Mother of pearl inlay, am I correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Percival said, to Credence’s obvious confusion.

“Nice of you to go to competition, then. He's too strong for something as little as that.” Percival bristled a bit at the dig, but they were already continuing on. “A shy one, yes, but very strong, very strong.”

They peered up at Credence with a solemn look.

“You've been through much,” they said softly, “and for now, your troubles are gone. But strength is needed in case they return, and…ah.” They smiled. “Protective. So, this wand. Accio!” They caught the wand speeding towards them, pulling it out of the box and handing it, handle first, to Credence.

“Go on.” Percival said encouragingly, when Crednece looked at him worriedly. Credence reached out and touched the handled, and Shikoba yanked the wand away.

“No, no, not that one.” They said. “Try this.” Producing a different wand that got the same response, Shikoba bared their teeth at the wands and closed their eyes. Hands up, they felt through the air for a brief second before stopping. “Interesting.”

“Percival?” Credence whispered.

“This one.” They said, and a wand floated from near the ceiling down to their hand. Reverently, they turned to Credence and held out the wand handle out. “Try this.”

Credence took the wand and gasped quietly. He looked even more astonished than he usually did, and Percival quietly handed Shikoba their payment for the wand and for a wand holder for Credence. He took a hold of Credence’s arm, not that he noticed, and gently pulled him out of the shop.

He didn't remember the suit he was supposed to be buying as well; instead, he took Credence back home so that they could begin training Credence in magic.


	8. Percival: Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I'm shit at both pacing, timing, and writing fight scenes. XD

“Um.” Newt’s voice was quiet and rough, and Percival looked up from his scrambled eggs to see him pushing his own food around his plate. He shared a look with Credence, and silently prompted Newt to continue. Newt took a deep breath and said, very quickly, “I was thinking of heading west to Texas…um, there's some pressing matters I should attend to. Quickly.”

“I see.” Percival said quietly, putting his own fork down.

“Can't it wait?” Credence blurted. They both looked at him and his face turned red. Hunching a little more over his own eggs, Credence muttered, “we’ve just started to get used to each other. I-I don't want...”

“Credence.” Percival said gently.

“No!” Credence clenched his fists; the dishware in the cabinets and the cooking pots in the stoves began rattling dangerously. “It's only been a month. You-You were gone for so long last time!”

“Credence, it's ok.” Percival said quietly. He put his hand on Credence’s, and the boy looked at him out of the corner of his eye. There was still that hint of fear in his look, but it was tampered by the helplessness welling up in his magic.

“I'll be back before you know it.” Newt said, reaching out and putting a hand on Credence’s other fist. Credence flinched away from Newt, his hand pulling itself out from under his and falling into Credence’s lap. Newt didn't look offended, and just pulled his own hand back. “It'll only take me four months.”

“You'll be back for Christmas?” Credence asked quietly. The rattling slowed a little, and Percival began soothing strokes with his thumb that made Credence’s mouth flicker.

“It's…” Newt smiled, the smile uncertain and not very reassuring. “That's in December isn't it? I should be back before then.” Credence regarded him wearily, but began to eat again; he'd been appeased by Newt’s words meaning he had no reason to believe Newt would lie to him. Percival watched Newt closely, though, hearing what the other man wouldn't admit to Credence:

He wasn't certain he'd even be back by the time four months was up.

XxX

It was in the middle of October, round the 15th or so, that things took a decided turn for the worst. It started, oddly enough, with Tina.

“Goldstein…” Percival sighed, rubbing his temples with one hand. Tina was standing in front of him, her hands clasped together and face imploring. She had a kidnapping case, where two girls had been taken from their homes in the middle of the night on the tenth. Time was running out for her to find the girls alive, and Tina had taken to staying late with Percival working on finding them. Percival could understand the urgency, he really could, but he had an animal trafficking case that wasn't getting any easier to solve. His own case had been spanning three months now, at a minimum, and he was very close to lashing out at anyone who would interrupt him with something trivial.

Not that two missing girls was trivial, but still.

“My partner’s out right now, he's sick.” She told him. Tina was lucky enough to have a breakthrough in her own case, but was unable to find a suitable replacement for her partner. “I can't face these people on my own, sir, please.”

“I have my own cases to tend to, Goldstein!” He snapped. Tina didn't even flinch, but her lips pursed just a bit as she glanced down to his paperwork. “What about Dawlish? Or even fucking Lien? Hell, get _Banders_ to help. Why does it have to be me?”

“I need the best help I can get.” Tina said insistently. “These girls need our help, Mr. Graves, and I can't just ignore them or endanger them because I couldn't get the best for them. Please.”

Percival hated that Tina could get him to see her side with an imploring tone in her voice; she'd always been able to do it, even as a child, and it made him sigh in irritation as he stood up and slammed his files closed. Glowering darkly at her and ignoring her chipper smile, Percival took hold of her arm and let her disapparate them from his office.

They landed just outside of a warehouse, one that Tina immediately frowned at.

“This is odd.” She said quietly. Percival glanced at her quickly, but she didn't elaborate; instead, she bent down and pulled out her wand. Following her lead, Percival inched behind her.

“What's the plan, then?” He asked quietly. Tina glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and he sighed irritably. “I know you, Tina, better than I want to. You'd better not have dragged me out here without a plan.”

“Of course not.” Tina shot back, though her voice wavered on uncertain. “Our plan is to get the girls. They should be in the warehouse down there, number seven.”

“And the men who kidnapped them?” Tina got silent, biting her lip and looking bashfully on the ground. Percival groaned and rubbed his temples again, willing away his headache.

Every. _Fucking_. Time.

“Ok,” he started, and then was immediately put on the defensive when a stray spell shot past him. Pushing Tina to the side automatically, Percival pivoted and shot back.

Chaos broke out, so much quicker than he'd anticipated. They were outnumbered by technicality; several wizards were coming out of the woodworks of the warehouses, not saying anything about the ones still hiding for advantage. Still, Tina had been top of Auror training for a reason, and there was no secret as to why Percival was being considered for the Director position, so for a time they were able to hold off on their own.

Just as Percival was about to call for backup, something caught his eye that made him pause. The fight had pushed the Aurors close to the warehouse that Tina had been trying to get to, and there was definitely something much bigger than a couple of girls in there. He turned to get a better look- - -

A curse slammed right into his wand arm, and Percival was thrown into Tina. Pain burst up his arm, and he instinctively shut down the part of his mind that was open to Credence and Newt; Credence didn't need to feel his pain, and it was quite likely that Newt didn't care.

“Percival!” Tina’s voice was bordering panicked, and it was clear that she'd been calling for his attention more than once. He blinked, forcing himself to focus on her as she brought up a shield around them.

“Wait.” He grunted, forcing himself to stand. Tina wrapped her arm around him, shooting a spell randomly behind them.

“You can't move too much, sir, you've- - - a”

“I've gotta get to that warehouse.” Tina gaped at him, and in her bewilderment, let another spell fly past her defenses. It slammed into his back, jolting the both of them forward. They slammed into the ground, and Tina had to let go of Percival in order to not slam into the ground face first.

“Percival, we need to leave now!” Tina snapped at him; she pulled herself to her feet and turned around, putting all of her focus on the fight around them.

“Not yet.” Percival could have sworn he saw something, the flash of a wing or a glint of a chain that could help his own case. He crawled forward, ignoring the pain twisting in his arm and back. He trusted Tina to keep him safe, just long enough for him to get a little bit closer…

He managed to pull himself partially into the warehouse, just enough to see exactly what he thought he'd seen: at least three Hippogriffs chained to the ground in forced bows, all in different corners of the space. There was a large cage in the center of the room, bars forming from the ceiling to the ground, with another Hippogriff inside. It was screeching, loudly, rearing up and down in agitation.

Percival was so caught up in the horror of what he'd found that he missed being seen; he was yanked back by Tina, but she had been a second too late. A crimson spell had hit him in his temple, and the same pain he'd been feeling exploded.

“We’ve got backup.” Tina was saying in his ear; Percival could barely hear her, the pain too much for him to be able to focus on her words. “We need to go. Percival are you all right?” He tried to answer her, but his mouth wouldn't form the proper words. Tina shout something, jolting Percival as she turned sharply.

Another spell hit him, and he tumbled out of Tina’s arms and to the ground.

“- - -call Newt and Credence!”

“No.” Percival found his voice at that, thick and choked as it was, and he grabbed Tina’s legs. She bent down, and he forced himself to speak clearly. It was important that she understood this. “Don't call them right now, Goldstein.”

“Your husbands deserve- - -”

“Credence is fine on his own.” Percival gagged on a glob of blood, spitting it out onto the floor and ignoring how Tina made a disgusted noise as she lifted him again. He stared at it in a dazed confusion; when had he started bleeding? “He’ll be ok, I'm sure of it. Tell him when I'm ok, he shouldn't worry. And Newt…”

“What about him?” Tina asked quietly, pressing her palms against his chest.

“Newt isn't even home.” Percival admitted. She sucked in a sharp breath, and Percival remembered a bit belatedly that Tina was not actually aware of the fact that Newt had trips that he left for months at a time, even if it was only his second trip. He debated on not saying anymore, but figured that he already dug his grave and he might as well bury himself in it. “Not for the next two months at least.”

“That wretched little- - -”

“Tina, please.” Percival coughed up more blood, and Tina hefted him higher onto her shoulder.

“Fine.” She snapped furiously. “Don't expect me to be pleased about it, sir. And once you're better, you better believe that we’ll be having words.” Percival let out a laugh that wasn't anything more than an exhalation of breath. Mercy, he was in such pain; he wasn't looking forward at all to the side-along that was coming.

He barely remembered making it to the hospital; everything was shapes and colors and pain, so much pain. Percival was dimly aware of Tina’s voice, authoritative and loud, directing attention to him. He felt himself being laid down, being wheeled away, watching as lights passed above his head. He couldn't pay attention to what was being said to him, because there was no way for him to focus. Blood kept coming out of his mouth, soaking the gurney he was laying on, and still, he knew nothing but the agony of the curses roiling on his body.

And then a wand was waved over him, and all Percival saw was blackness.


	9. Alternative Prologue 2: Credence

Four year old Credence was curled up by his mother, warm under the blankets with his mother’s arm holding him to her side. He was supposed to be sleeping because it was late, and his mother had a doctors appointment in the morning. She couldn't afford a babysitter, and so Credence was going to have to go with her like he always did. Credence didn't mind; he was tiny and didn't have very many friends, so any chance to leave the immediate area of his house was a fun adventure.

His mother turned her head to cough suddenly, and Credence closed his eyes and pretended that it wasn't as bad as it sounded. He felt the harsh wracking of her shoulders, the way her sides expanded and collapsed under the force of her breathing and coughing. The tail end of it sounded wet and hacking, but she magicked away whatever she coughed up before relaxing again. Her arm tightened around his waist, fingers drawing a soothing pattern into his skin through the hole in his shirt.

They lay quietly for a few more minutes before he got antsy and couldn't pretend to be sleeping any longer.

“Ma,” he said quietly.

“You're supposed to be asleep, Credence.” His mother admonished, but it was gentle and her voice was as quiet as his. He sniffled a bit, and her arm tightened around him a bit more. She never did like it when he got sick; Credence liked to think it was because she didn't want him to have to stay indoors, rather than the actual worry he would get sick like she did. “Did you want to hear about your partners again, love?”

“Yes, please, Ma.”

“Well.” She began, like she always did. Credence kept his eyes closed, listening to the lilt and cadence of her voice as she told him, again, about Percival and Newt. He fell asleep, lulled to unconsciousness by the tales of his quiet partner hidden in New York and his boisterous one far away across the sea in England. He dreamt of the gentleness his mother spoke of, and the adventures she promised him.

He was unaware, too young to really understand how his mother was wasting away beside him, even as she held him as tightly as she dared.

XxX

Sitting quietly in the cold by himself, tucked away into the alley next to his house, Credence watched as the police and EMTs entered and exited his house. He couldn't hear quite what they were saying, but it didn't sound as if anyone was looking for him just yet.

His Ma had sent him to bed a couple of days ago, like she always did. The two of them snuggled into bed together, to share the blankets and body heat. She'd told him of his partners again, her voice creating a familiar story Credence had heard so many times before.

And when he woke up the next morning, she hadn't.

He didn't know what to do. He had never given a thought as to what would happen if his Ma died so soon, and it didn't seem like she had either. There was no instructions on where to go or what to do. He sniffled again, crying a little bit not letting himself be heard.

There was a press against the back of his head, and little Credence sat up suddenly. Percival! Of course, he hadn't thought of that. But surely Percival would let him live with him, they were supposed to be married, right?

Credence wasn't sure how to find him, but he slipped away from his house anyway. He wouldn't see him passing by, and he needed to find Percival as soon as possible.

He pictured the presence in the back of his head, imagining it was a string that he was supposed to be following. It wasn't completely perfect, but it was the best Credence could do; he couldn't tell who was magic and who wasn't, so he furrowed his little brow and followed Percival’s magical signature into New York City.

It was a lot bigger than he thought it would be, especially by himself. He kept getting turned around and confused; the adults around him skirted him, leaving him alone. Credence could feel himself getting scared, and he tried clinging to Percival’s magical signature harder.

He closed his eyes to focus, and he bumped into someone else because of it.

“Hey, be careful!” It was a girl’s voice, and she snapped at him irritably. Credence looked up, and her face softened almost instantly. She knelt down, put down the stack of papers in her hands, and reached out. “You ok?”

“I need help.” Credence whispered. She stood up, gathering her papers, and pulled him up. He tried not to be embarrassed that she was able to do so with one hand.

“Ok.” She told him. “My name’s Chastity. My Ma’ll help us.”

Credence didn't have any other ideas. He was alone, and lost in a city much bigger than he'd anticipated, and he couldn't find Percival anywhere. Sniffling just a little bit, he took her hand and followed her; at least he’d be able to have an adult help him. Maybe Chastity’s Ma had magic and knew who Percival was.

XxX

Credence winced away from the belt, but it didn't stop his palms from stinging. Tears were already falling down his face, but he glowered at his Ma in defiance anyway. Mary Lou glared back at him, and not for the first time, Credence found himself wishing he had more control over his powers. He wished he didn't have to live with this vicious woman, who liked to tear him down with her words and beat him down with her belt.

He wished her words weren't starting to affect him.

“Just so you know,” he hissed between clenched teeth, like he always did when she smacked his hands raw, “I'm engaged already. And I can tell you, they wouldn't be happy to hear you've been treating me like this.”

“Is that right?” Mary Lou hit his palms again, and Credence bit back the whimper that threatened to escape. She grabbed his hand, putting extra pressure on his open wounds and pulling him forward. This wasn't news to her, and the look on her face was exactly the same as it always was when he brought up Newt and Percival. Her eyes glinted darkly as she asked, “and exactly whom are you to be married to? Is it a witch?”

“No.” Credence bit out. He wouldn't tell her anything about Newt or Percival. He'd been out of the loop for too long; he hadn't been hearing any news on what Percival was doing, and he'd never been very good at keeping track of what was going on in England for Newt. There wasn't much contact between the three of them, and Credence had been feeling disconnected from both of his partners ever since his mother died and he'd been found by Mary Lou. 

But he would be damned before he told this evil woman anything about either of his partners.

“And what makes you so sure they would want to be married to you?” She asked acidly. Credence’s glare wavered, and Mary Lou picked up on it. Pulling him a little closer, she hissed, “look at you, Credence. You're nothing right now.”

“I'm not nothing to them.” Credence hissed back, but his voice wasn't as strong as hers and he was losing the assurances his mother had given him when he was little. This scene had been repeated too many times, and there was little from either partner that Credence could draw on to keep himself assured they still wanted him. Mary Lou was breaking him down, piece by piece, until she had her way.

“You are.” Mary Lou dropped his arm, sneering. “You're nothing, and you won't be worth anything if you don't keep to the cause, Credence. Don't forget that they abandoned you to the streets, and if it weren't for me, you'd be living there still. Hand out your pamphlets. And don't let me catch you talking about your supposed partners again.”

Credence curled into a ball on the floor, putting his head in his knees and letting himself cry. He wanted Newt. He wanted Percival.

But Mary Lou was right. His mother had died, and neither of them came for him. Did they not care anymore? Did they not want him, either of them? Credence tried poking at Newt, but he never poked back and it sent a seed of despair rooting in his chest. Hesitantly, he poked at Percival, but for the first time in his life, Percival didn't poke back.

Credence felt lost and alone; it was expanded when suddenly both presences were gone from his mind and he only had his own magic, locked in a ball.

XxX

His hands were trembling finely, and Credence found himself hoping that neither Newt or Percival noticed. Newt didn't seem to; his eyes were red-rimmed, but his gaze was steely and determined. He was taking deep breaths and glancing to the side, where there was a display of pastries for them when their vows were finished. Credence did the same, his stomach grumbling quietly at the promise of food.

Percival, however, seemed to think something was wrong. He kept tightening his grip on Credence’s hand; it wasn't harsh, just a gentle pressure that highlighted his shaking. Credence tried to form a smile to show him, but couldn't muster up anything. It brought his frown down more, and Credence ducked his head in shame. They weren't even married yet, and he was already in trouble with Percival. His palms stung with phantom pain, and Credence found himself wondering if Percival used a belt like Ma did.

He could see Newt’s parents and his brother with Percival’s parents, and found himself relieved that Ma hadn't shown up like she threatened to. Not that she would have been allowed in anyway; apparently they had a big thing against No-Majs, and since Ma wasn't related to Credence anyway, they wouldn’t have let her in even if she had wanted to come.

Still, it was a relief not to have her looming over his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Credence tried to focus on his future with Newt and Percival right by his side; still, he couldn't help but hear his Ma in the back of his mind.

‘ _You’re nothing, Credence. They abandoned you._ ’

If they abandoned him once, Credence thought to himself mournfully, what's to stop them from doing it again?


	10. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:  
If Credence said that he hated having a wand, he'd be a horrible, horrible liar.

He'd never seen Percival or Newt do magic in the house, back when they were first married. Well, he'd never seen Newt, period, because Newt hid himself away from the start and then left for five months right afterwards.

But he'd spent time around Percival, very begrudgingly, and he hadn't noticed him do any magic either. Not really, just little things that made bottles explode and books fly, and so Credence decided that magic wasn't allowed, just like when he was living with Ma. His magic swirled restlessly in its container, but Credence forced it down.

If it burst out of him uncontrollably, like it did at Ma’s, Credence couldn't help but flinch away, especially when it happened in front of Percival. But the man never seemed to notice, and Credence found himself relaxing more and more in his presence. It couldn't be helped; Percival never raised his voice or his hand, and he was unfailingly patient when it came to Credence’s stuttering and stumbling. He didn't even say anything against magic, but that didn't mean he supported it.

Credence remembered only bits and pieces of their actual marriage, too uncertain and focused on his absent Ma, but he was pretty sure he'd remember something as big as magic.

Still, Percival being kind to him didn't stop him from panicking when his magic came out on display fully. Their morning routine was interrupted when Percival dropped his bowl and Credence caught it from across the room.

He'd felt the familiar surge and reacted before he could think, catching the bowl before it hit the ground. Pride came in bursts across his mind before logic caught up and all Credence could think was that _he messed up, Percival’s going to be mad, magic is not allowed, **demonic little terror**_ \- - -

Credence couldn't remember dropping the bowl, but he remembered holding his hand out; he heard himself whimpering and crying, telling Percival _please, Mr. Graves, just make it fast, please_ \- - -

And then…

And then nothing. Percival stroked his scarred palms, and then he hugged Credence while he cried. It was comforting; he could barely remember the last time anyone hugged him properly, let alone the last time he was so enveloped in warmth and security like this. It took a little while for him to calm down, but Percival was _there_ , being warm and comforting and _safe_.

Percival was much more attentive after that, Credence noticed, even after Newt came back. He was a constant source, both mentally and physically. His magic returned to the back of Credence’s mind, and he felt a little more secure, a little more whole. He praised Credence often when his magic came out in little bursts, and Credence found himself drifting more and more to Percival.

And then with his new wand…

Well, Credence could honestly say he's never been happier.

XxX

“Now.” Percival told him, “your wand is going to help you channel your magic. That's what it's for.” Credence was still turning his wand in his hand, feeling the dips and grooves in the wood and feeling something similar to completeness filling his chest. He hadn't been paying attention to Percival’s words, not really, which probably accounted for the fond look he saw when he finally looked up.

Turning red at having been caught not paying attention, Credence cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter.

“I’m sorry, Percival.” He said quietly. “What, what were you saying?”

“Credence.” Percival scooted forward a bit and put his hand on Credence’s knee. His hand was warm and comforting, and Credence couldn't help but put his own hand over Percival’s. It made him smile, but then his look turned serious. “Credence, why didn't you have your own wand?”

Oh. Oh, this would be awkward.

Credence licked his lips and leaned forward just a bit, debating. Percival was interested now, he thought, but there were at least six years of his life that neither of his partners had been interested in before. Did he want to tell Percival what had happened with Mary Lou? Did Percival actually care, or was he just asking because at almost nineteen, Credence really should've had his own wand and schooling finished? He must have taken too long to answer; Percival let a small, sad smile cross his face as he squeezed his leg.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Credence.” He said softly. “I'm sorry if you don't want me prying.”

“Oh, it's-it’s not that.” Credence licked his lip and sighed. “Percival, can I ask you something?” Percival nodded, his dark eyes locked on Credence’s intensely. Credence licked his lips, trying to plan out what he wanted to say; what came out was, “why did you abandon me to the No-Majs?”

“What do you mean?” Percival asked with a frown. Credence took a deep, shuddering breath and was only slightly surprised to find himself tearing up. “Credence, what are you talking about?”

“My Ma was a witch.” Credence sniffled. “An actual, real witch. She died when I was ten, and I-I wanted you. Or Newt. I-I thought you'd let me stay with-with you. But I went in-into the city alone, and I never found you. I-I-”

“Shh, shh.” Percival drew him forward and made soothing noises when Credence broke down into sobs. He hadn't thought that he was still hurt about being left behind; he'd grown up, and he'd gotten married despite what his Ma had said, and he had his own wand now! He shouldn't still be feeling this way, this lost and alone.

But Percival didn't shut him down, or tell him to stop. He just hugged Credence a little tighter, and Credence shuffled closer. He wasn't ready to hug Percival back, wasn't even fully trusting of the man’s arms wrapped around him, but the contact was so soothing he didn't want it to end at all.

XxX

Credence might have been the youngest, but he wasn't stupid.

He glowered at Newt over his breakfast, keeping his head bowed so that he didn't see. Already, he was trying to leave again. He'd only been back for a little bit, and Newt wasn't even going to _try_ at being married to Credence and Percival. Newt didn't seem to notice his dark looks or anything, he just kept eating his own breakfast as if nothing was wrong. Credence wanted to shout at him some more, but Percival had already said it was ok and Newt said that he would be back.

Credence didn't think that Newt would be back in time for Christmas, but he couldn't say anything without sounding angry. He wondered if he wasn't allowed to feel angry at Newt, and if he should try to quiet the rage that swirled in his chest. Percival wasn't saying anything to him, though, and Credence didn't want to bring it up with Newt still in front of them.

It felt weird, he thought, that he was so attached to Percival and yet wasn't that way with Newt. Percival took his hand all the time; he wrapped his arm around Credence’s shoulder, or his waist, and he would give Credence a hug before bed. He'd even tried to kiss him, once, but Credence had ducked away with such a fierce blush that Percival hadn't tried again. Credence slowed his chewing as he mulled over why he'd yanked his hand away from Newt.

He didn't know much about either of his husbands, Credence mused with a glance at Percival. Newt wasn't trying, not really, so that would make sense. But with Percival…

He cleared his throat as Newt stood to put his dishes in the sink. Newt paused, half out of his chair, but Credence had his eyes on Percival; Newt was leaving later on tonight, and Credence couldn't help being a little mean in return.

“Percival.” He said quietly, “I was wondering whether or not you would like to maybe, um, go out for tonight.” Percival shot him a curious look, his tilting to the side. Credence felt himself flush a little, but he didn't want to back down. He didn't have any money, he realized belatedly, and wondered briefly if he should try to find a job.

“All right.” Percival said gently, folding his hands over his plate. “Where would you like to go?”

Oh. Credence hadn’t quite thought that far, and he gnawed on his lip as his gaze dropped. It made Percival smile, and he took Credence’s hand in his own again.

“It's all right.” He said easily. “We’ll figure something out tonight. Sound good?” Credence nodded, but their gazes were averted to Newt as he strode purposely out of the door.

Credence felt bad for doing that in front of Newt; he'd wanted to get back at him for leaving them again, but maybe his plan had worked too well. Newt only looked a little annoyed, but he left the kitchen so suddenly it was clear that he was mad they were going out without him.

“When Newt comes back,” Credence found himself saying, “we should go out again. So he knows we’re happy to have him back.”

“That sounds like an even better plan.” Percival smiled. “Finish your breakfast, Credence.”


	11. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:  
Newt told himself he wasn't irritated, he _wasn't_. Percival and Credence could go on all the dates they wanted. He didn't even want to be a part of this marriage _anyway_. It would be better for them all if they just left him alone and let him do as he pleased.

At least, he told himself that until he got out of the kitchen. Then he stopped and leaned next to the door, putting his hand over his eyes.

He didn't want them anyway, he told himself firmly, until he heard a quiet voice from the kitchen; Credence.

“When Newt comes back,” he was saying, “we should go out again. So he knows we’re happy to have him back.” Newt felt his breath hitch a little at the thought of being involved in this marriage, more than he already was with breakfast.

The hitch was a little louder when Percival agreed, as easily and quickly as if it were natural to have Newt along. The sound made him smile, and Newt managed to move himself away from the doorway and to his bedroom.

Perhaps, taking a more active stance in this marriage wouldn't be too bad, Newt mused as he began packing his things away. Dougal had hopped out of the case and was keeping him company, amusing himself by vanishing and reappearing elsewhere in the room. Newt only half kept an eye on him, because Dougal was one of his more…well, not _tamer_ , per say, but definitely one of his creatures least likely to cause trouble.

How odd, Newt thought to himself, to feel that swirl of jealousy. On his last trip, he'd been so miserable and so focused on Frank that he hadn't given much thought to his husbands at home. It made sense that they learned about each other, having only the two of them for company. Newt could tell, even if only a little, that Credence preferred Percival over him. It stung only a little to have Credence pull away from him and not Percival, but Newt figured it was less conscious than Credence even realized.

There was still plenty of time to let Credence in, and have Credence accept Newt. The issue that bothered Newt wasn't that. What bothered him more was, that in order to let Credence in, he would have to also let Percival in.

Was he ready to take that step?

Credence was still little, and he was very sheltered from the wizarding world, it was very obvious. But Percival was an Auror, part of the magical government that ruled in America. Newt didn't think it was too different from Britain’s Ministry of Magic, and that made him weary. There was a stigma against his creatures, one that he was slowly fighting on his own. As nice as it would be to have Credence on his side, Newt wasn't sure where Percival would fall.

Did he dare take that risk?

“Dougal, what- - -” He turned to ask the demiguise a question, only to stop short when the creature dove on top of the suitcase and turned invisible, only his golden eyes visible for a brief second before even those were gone. Newt was confused, reaching out to his creature, when there was a knock at his door.

“Newt.” Percival was leaning against his doorframe, looking only vaguely uncomfortable. Newt hummed in response, taking in the discomfort and feeling a bit bad about it.

“Percival.” He said back, crossing his arms over his chest. Newt wondered where Credence was, briefly, before remembering that the boy cleaned the breakfast dishes by himself. “Did you need something?”

“No, I just.” Percival stopped and looked frustrated with himself, running a hand through his hair and tugging on the short strands. Very quietly, so quietly that Newt almost didn't hear him, Percival said, “if you…happen to see Frank…” Newt’s heart stopped, his eyes wide with surprise, “give him our regards. I hope he's doing well.”

“Percival…” Newt said softly, but the Auror had already pulled away and headed down the hallway. Newt watched him go, until Percival began heading down the stairs, and then closed his door behind him.

Dougal reappeared, chittering softly from his position on Newt’s case.

“What do I do?” Newt asked him softly. Dougal blinked at him and vanished, reappearing on the other side of the room.

XxX

Newt didn't travel all the way to Arizona to see Frank just yet, but he didn't expect to. There was rumors of a breeding ground in Texas, a truly awful one, and he intended to shut it down. Granted, Newt knew that he shouldn't be going off on things like this on his own, but it was too late for that now. He was in the midst of sneaking into the compound when something seared into the back of his head.

He made a muted noise, hand darting up to press against the back of his head to quell the pain, but it was already gone. Feeling dazed and very much confused, Newt had to give himself a second before returning focus to his mission. It had taken him a month to track down these breeders, and he didn't want to think about how much longer he'd be away if they managed to move.

Newt was, very oddly, looking forward to the date he'd been promised.

He was still hesitant about revealing his creatures to Percival and Credence. Newt had gotten into the habit of questioning Dougal once a day, asking if the demiguise thought it was a good idea to let them know. He hadn't managed a straight answer just yet.

Still, the spark of pain made Newt suspicious, and his suspicion made him careless. He'd failed to keep a proper watch, distracted by pain and sudden absence of it, and got caught.

There were only two wizards, but Newt couldn't manage to fight and keep an eye on the creatures he was trying to save; he made his choice, and regretted it when the Wizards he was dueling disapparated mid battle. Twisting around, he was dismayed but not surprised that they’d managed to clear out the creatures while he was distracted.

He still shot a hex at the wall out of frustration.

Newt was so irritated he nearly went after them anyway. They were rushed when they left, and sloppy, and he shouldn't have had a problem tracking them down again. He wouldn't attack right away, because they were on guard now, but he could've waited a couple of days and tried again.

Pain flared in the back of his head again, and this time, an image accompanied it: four Hippogriffs, in the worst condition he'd ever seen. The image faded as quickly as it had appeared, and Newt felt cold as he thought about the decision he faced.

Two sets of creatures needed his help. How could he choose between the two groups?

Though, clearly, the Hippogriffs needed the help more. Newt had never seen such deplorable conditions: chained to the ground, with an actual fighting ring set up! A righteous anger coursed through him, and Newt promptly apparated to the train station.

He needed to get back to Percival’s house to plan a proper course of action.

XxX

Feeling far more irritated than when he left, Newt returned from his second trip- - -only two months this time, instead of the four he'd thought he needed- - -to a distraught Credence and a missing Percival. The boy was crying silently, sitting on the sofa and curled in on himself when Newt walked in. Percival was nowhere to be found.

“You came back.” He said simply when he saw him. Newt nodded once, his brow furrowing just a little when Credence sniffled. Before he could say anything, Credence continued with a quiet, “I'd thought maybe you'd abandoned me like Percival has.”

“Of course I haven't.” Newt said automatically, putting his case down gently and sitting next to Credence. He'd taken him in his arms and was running his fingers through his dark hair when Credence’s words registered. Newt didn't draw back, because the boy was starved for affection as it was, but said quietly, “where is Percival?”

Credence shrugged in response, his breath shaky and weak.

“He hasn't come back in a couple of days.” He admitted softly. “I thought he'd been working late, but then his bed hasn't been used lately, and there hasn't been any breakfast ready in the morning…”

“Credence, have you been eating?” Newt asked, and wasn't very assured when he hesitated before nodding. “Credence, I need you to tell me the truth. Have you been eating anything?”

“Mostly snacks.” He whispered. “Stuff that doesn't need me to cook or heat up for too long.”

“Oh, Credence.” Newt sighed. He pulled him in again, slowly, for a hug that Credence didn't try to get away from. It filled Newt with a bittersweet feeling; it was the first bit of contact that Credence didn’t initially flinch away from, but it came at the cost of him thinking that they'd abandoned him.

“I'm sorry.” Credence sobbed, and Newt shushed him gently. Irritation at Percival flashed through him; how dare that man try and keep tabs on Newt, on Credence, without feeling the need to keep them updated on what he was doing. Newt didn't care, of course, not really, but Credence needed the assurances that he hadn't been left behind.

Resolving to tell Percival something when the man came home, Newt stood and brought Credence with him. He allowed the boy to cling to his back as he bustled about the kitchen, making dinner for the both of them. He hesitated, then decided against making a portion for Percival; a jab against his hypocritical rules.

After they ate, he sent Credence to bed with the promise that Percival should be back soon and that Newt was going anywhere in the meantime. It took several minutes of cajoling, but eventually the youngest in the trio took to the stairs. Newt waited until he heard Credence’s bedroom door shut before plopping down on the sofa and glowering at the door. He didn't think he made the same intimidating picture Percival had when he'd done the same thing, but he figured it was close enough to let the man know he was in trouble.

And then he waited.

Midnight came and passed and still Newt waited. His fury at Percival was mounting, becoming a tangible thing, and he almost pitied the man for the tempest he would be facing when he got home. Newt knew that his anger was certainly no picnic, and his wand was practically sparking in his lap from his magic. Something nudged against the back of his mind, and Newt frowned; he looked down to focus on it, wondering why it felt so familiar and so odd at the same time.

Then Credence came down the stairs, yawning and looking relieved that Newt was still there. Newt looked at him, confused, until he realized it was morning again and Percival had neither come back home or sent word of what was holding him up.

Newt’s fury simmered, but he refused to take it out on Credence.

Two more days passed, and his fury grew with each passing day. He stayed home and tended to Credence lovingly, of course, and made sure the boy stayed sane and happy. And at night he sat on the couch and glowered darkly at the door, his wand shooting out quiet sparks in his hand.

This was how Percival was startled in the middle of the night. He opened the door quietly, leaning heavily on the doorframe. Hospital wings were fantastic for treating symptoms of wounds for a time, and though he'd been in a magically induced coma for a week, his body was sore and tired. He wanted nothing more than to get into his house and up to his bed without waking Credence, and so entered a little less quieter than he would have liked.

“So, it's not good for me to be out and about without telling you how long I'm going to be gone,” Newt growled the second Percival came in, “but you can be gone for however long you like and not let us know?”

His surprise was quiet, at least, Percival thought as he stated wide eyed at Newt. Newt, who shouldn't have been back for another two and a half months. Newt, who had no reason to even know about what happened to him over the course of the week. Percival blinked, stunned, then sighed and dragged his hand over his face. He hadn't noticed the sparking wand in the window, but he could see it now.

“Hello, Newt.” He said instead of a reply. “You're home early.”

“And good that I was!” Newt snapped. “Between me gone and you're vanishing without a word, Credence thought we'd abandoned him!” His voice wasn't growing in volume, which made Percival glance up the stairs; the youngest among them must have fallen asleep already, otherwise he would have come down. Credence had a knack for appearing whenever his name was uttered, though Percival wasn't sure if it was a response from Mary Lou or something he'd decided on when he was married. Newt didn't seem to notice his distraction. “He was living off of snacks, Percival! How could you be so irresponsible?”

“I'm irresponsible?” Percival’s attention snapped back to Newt instantly, his face contorting in anger. At least, he thought, the anger takes the focus away from the aches and pains he was still feeling. “I'm the irresponsible one, Newt?”

“Yes!” Newt bit out. “You're the protector, the guardian. You're suppose to be watching out for him!”

“And what about you?” Percival took a step towards Newt. Anger made his legs steady, and he looked more imposing than he actually felt. “You're supposed to be his support as well! There's three of us for a reason, Newt! I cannot hope to do this alone. I need help from the both of you!”

“Well, I don't need you!” Newt snapped back, ignoring the quiet shattering of the flower vase beside him. Percival reared back, feeling as though Newt shot a hex at him and he was too slow to dodge. He looked furious, his wand still emitting red sparks, and his anger made his mouth loose with everything he was holding pent up in his mind. “I never asked for this, Percival! I hate this country, I hate this house, and I hate being married to you!”

Silence rang through the house, and Percival sighed heavily; Newt looked almost guilty, but mostly something that looked like relief. Percival rubbed his face again, and felt the weariness down to his bones. He put his hand out and Newt flinched away, but he only repaired the vase. It wouldn't do for Credence to be worried in the morning.

“Go to bed, Newt.” He said tiredly. Newt looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected him to say such a thing. He almost looked as though he wanted to keep fighting, but Percival was tired.

He was tired of fighting with Newt. Tired of treading on thin ice with Credence, of attempting at dodging land mines because he didn't know anything about either one of them to be able to get as close as he wanted to. He wanted both of his partners, and it was looking more and more like neither one wanted him. It was draining; they were supposed to share their magic together, make each other stronger. Instead, his magic was becoming more and more unpredictable, lashing out and causing problems. Credence’s magic was feeding into his, making it worse because the boy wasn't aware of how to control his own magic yet. Newt’s was the only one who didn't seem to have issues, and Percival found himself questioning the validity of the other’s involvement in their marriage.

“We’ll discuss this in the morning.” He told him. Percival headed up the stairs, feeling much older than twenty three. He stopped outside of Credence’s room, looking at the door and hoping that the boy had slept through it all. It wasn't like him to sleep so deeply, but he didn't want Credence to be affected by the words Newt spit out. They'd been aimed at him, but Credence was always taking things to heart.

With yet another sigh, Percival continued down the hall to his room. Starting to regret coming home at all, Percival opened the door- - -

And stopped short at the sight of Credence, curled up in a ball on his bed.

His first thought was that he'd heard them arguing downstairs and was hurt by Newt’s words. Percival squared his shoulders, preparing to comfort Credence to the best of his ability, only to stop again with the realization that Credence was actually asleep. His face was smooth and relaxed, his breathing deep and even. Percival half turned towards the door, staring down the hall at Credence’s room, then turned back to Credence.

Should he sleep in his own bed? Did he go to a different guest room so that Credence may have his privacy? Percival hadn't expected to find the boy here. It was strange, being the one sought out for once, and it brought a fluttery feeling forward in his stomach.

And then something brushed against the back of his mind, something he hadn't felt for ages: Credence’s magic, reaching out to him for the first time in forever. Percival sighed heavily for a fourth time, but this time it was accompanied by a small smile. Undressing quickly, and getting into pajamas, Percival climbed carefully into bed, trying not to wake Credence.


	12. Chapter 9

Credence felt himself pull into consciousness slowly, his mind sluggishly recognizing the furnishings of Percival's room. He'd taken to sleeping there for the past week, ever since Percival had gone missing.

The first night, he remembered, Credence had slept in his own room. Percival had left for work that morning, and Credence assumed he'd gotten home late; he was asleep before Percival had returned home. He assumed that Percival would be there in the morning, because if he was out late then he tended to sleep in.

Except Percival wasn't there, and from the looks of it, hadn't even come home. Credence bit nervously at his lip, glancing around. Newt had been gone for almost two months already, and it had just been Percival and Credence in the house. He knew instinctively that Percival had stayed away overnight, and the idea made him worry.

 _He wouldn't abandon me_ , Credence assured himself, and said so aloud as if that would dispel his fears.

 _Ah, but wouldn't he?_ Said a voice in his mind. It sounded like Mary Lou’s, and Credence flinched away from it. _Newt already has, look at how he's rejected you by staying as far away as possible. Percival was a bit slow on the uptake, but surely he was now doing the same thing..._

“No.” Credence said loudly. His voice echoed in the kitchen. “Percival isn't like that. _He_ wants me, even if Newt doesn't.”

Credence spent the whole day telling himself that. He believed it too, he really did. That night, he glanced down the hallway to Percival’s door and hesitated outside his own. He wasn't doing a very good job of being married, he admitted to himself, and maybe that's why Percival stayed away last night. Carefully, so very carefully, Credence opened his mind a little bit. His magic unfurled from the box in his head, and it felt sort of like Credence was stretching mentally.

He felt both magical presences in his mind, though Newt’s was quiet and Percival’s was dormant. Feeling a little bit better now that his magic was out on his own accord, a little bit more whole than before, Credence smiled at Percival’s door before going into his own room.

Perhaps tomorrow he'd manage to give Percival a kiss in the morning. At least, Credence thought as he fell asleep, stay by his side without stammering or flinching.

But then Percival wasn't there that morning, either. Credence had snacked on some strawberries that Percival had been saving for breakfast, apologizing in his mind as he ate them. Mary Lou’s voice was a little bit harder to banish during the second day, but Credence deep cleaned the entire house from top to bottom the way he'd been taught- - -the No-Maj way, Percival said- - -to keep himself busy. It had worked again, and Credence sent a much longer look towards Percival’s room that night as he went to bed.

“Please be back in the morning,” he said, before going into his room. He left the door open; Credence had always been a light sleeper, and he wanted to know when Percival got home. He didn't have the advantage of setting magical alarms, and so he left the door open instead.

The third day was a little more unbearable, and Credence couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. Newt and Percival had both abandoned him, he thought, and tears welled up in his eyes faster than he could even register. He stayed curled up on his bed, crying and shaking. The whole day passed without him realizing it, and Credence was more exhausted than when he woke up. He fell asleep, the door still open.

The fourth day passed in the same way, but Credence was too tired to cry. He lay in bed, drained and tired, watching the hours tick by without really registering that time was passing. Around eight in the evening, he got up and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders; stumbling just a little, Credence opened the cabinet door and made himself a small sandwich. He ate on the sofa, staring at the door. When he fell asleep and woke up in the same spot the next morning, Credence felt his heart drop.

He got up himself, made himself something quick to eat in the kitchen, and then headed up the stairs. With only a seconds’ worth of hesitation, Credence bypassed his room entirely and plopped onto the left side of Percival’s bed. He slept there that night, much better than he had on the sofa or in his own room.

He spent the majority of the next day on the sofa, staring at the door the way Percival had when they'd been waiting for Newt to get home from his first trip. Credence told himself he wasn't angry, he wasn't, but he wanted to know the second Percival had gotten home. When darkness fell and there was not a single word, Credence stood and dragged himself to Percival’s bed again.

That night he dreamed of Percival; Credence didn't remember the dream in the morning, but it was enough to give him something resembling hope. He got up, and ate the last of the bread in a sandwich, and sat on the sofa again. It was almost nightfall when Newt came home, when Credence had decided that both of his partners hated him and left him behind. Newt’s words were not quite as assuring as Percival’s were, his actions not quite as comforting as Percival’s, but Newt let Credence cling to him while he made dinner.

And when he sent him to bed, Credence didn't even stop by his room. Newt had come home, and perhaps that meant Percival would come home soon. He slept a little better that night, his dreams of Percival a little clearer.

XxX

Of course, that didn't necessarily excuse the last couple of days, but Credence found that he slept much better in Percival's room. His bed was softer, the pillows fluffier, and the faint hum of Percival’s magic was much more soothing than the coldness of Credence’s own room. He hadn't expected to like sleeping in Percival’s room so much, not really; now that he had though, Credence wondered at how he should bring it up to Percival without irritating the other man.

Credence turned over to think, and froze when he came face to face with a groggy looking Percival.

“Morning, Credence.” He murmured. Credence noted, in a distant part of his mind, that his voice was rough sounding from sleep. It sent chills down his spine, but not the same ones that he got when speaking with Mary Lou sometimes. They were good chills, and Credence felt his face get very red very quickly.

He realized, rather belatedly, that Percival had gotten ahold of him in the middle of the night. The man’s arm was under his head, in the space under his neck comfortably. His other arm was draped over his hip in a loose hold; when Credence turned, it had brought their knees together awkwardly, and Percival shifted a bit in his sleep-filled state in order to get more comfortable.

Credence squeaked in surprise, and Percival seemed to wake up a little more. He lifted his head slightly from the pillow, trailing his eyes down Credence’s body very slowly. More blood rushed to Credence’s face, and he was sure that his heart was beating so loudly that Percival could hear it. His breath started coming in little gasps, and that snapped Percival’s eyes back to Credence’s.

He looked as ashamed as he could while still half-asleep, and, much to Credence’s surprised horror, began lifting his arm _away_ from Credence’s hip.

His hand shot out before he could stop himself; he grabbed a hold of Percival’s arm and kept in in place. Credence stared, wide-eyed and flushed and panting, at the very surprised look on Percival’s face.

“Good, um, good morning, P-Percival!” Credence squeaked out. Percival gulped, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. He looked much more alert now, much more awake, but he didn't remove his arm. Instead, he tightened his hold on Credence, which pulled him a little closer than he'd anticipated.

Certain his face couldn't get any redder, Credence allowed the movement because it meant that he could bury his face in Percival’s neck. As he did so, he felt the man turn to his side; his hold on his waist became gentle, though he kept Credence close, and his other hand reached up and began carding through his hair.

“Is this to become a nightly occurrence?” Percival asked gently. His voice was less sleep rough, but something warm began pooling in Credence’s stomach anyway. Taking a shuddering breath in an effort to calm down, Credence couldn't find it in himself to do anything other than nod. Percival hummed, the noise sounding pleased, and Credence felt something calming wash over the back of his mind.

After a quiet moment, Credence reached out. His own arm draped gently over Percival’s hip, which made the other man draw in a surprised breath. Emboldened by the response, Credence began digging his other arm under Percival’s hip. Percival lifted his hips, just enough so that Credence could clasp both hands around him.

His arm had never gotten so tired so quickly, but Credence didn't want to move for the rest of the day. He was more than content to spend the day in bed with Percival, just holding each other.

Unfortunately, after a long moment that stretched between them, Percival pulled his arm out from under Credence so that he could push himself up. Credence looked up at him, his eyes wide and shining, as Percival brushed his hair to the side.

“Would you mind,” he said quietly, “if I kissed you, Credence?”

A knock on the door interrupted Credence’s answer, and he nearly whined when Percival pulled away from him to open the door. He flopped backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Do you know where Credence is?” Newt’s voice was loud and jarring in the quietness that Credence and Percival had created, and Credence lifted his head a bit to see Newt hunched awkwardly in Percival’s doorway. His eyes were on the ground, and he was fidgeting with his sleeve.

“I’m here, Newt.” Credence followed Pericval’s example, getting out of the bed so that he could join Percival by the door. He left a bit of space between them, not knowing where the boundaries were out of the bed, and smiled slightly at the way Newt’s eyes shot up to him.

“All right.” Percival sighed heavily, running a hand down his face just as Newt opened his mouth. “Downstairs, both of you. We need to make breakfast.” He threw Newt a very meaningful look, one that had the other staring down at the ground again.

Something odd settled in Credence’s stomach, but he followed the elder two down to the kitchen. 

XxX

Breakfast was quite the awkward affair.

Having Newt actually in the kitchen while they cooked, instead of him entering afterwards, disrupted the automatic motions that Credence and Percival had settled into. They bumped into one another constantly, not used to the extra person until Newt sat himself down at the table and didn't move.

They ate in silence for a moment, Credence looking between the two of them uncertainly. Newt seemed determined to not meet his look, and Percival found himself at a loss; how did he address Newt’s reaction last night? Credence didn't seem to be having any issues with Newt, which meant the problem was with Percival himself.

“So.” Percival said, breaking he awkward silence that had settled on them. Credence turned to look at him, but Newt only glanced up from his plate. Clearing his throat, Percival steepled his fingers together and wondered where to start.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Newt said instantly. He seemed to hunch in on himself, and Percival honed in on that; it gave him a sense of where to direct the conversation, even if he hadn't wanted to get into that just yet.

“This is a marriage between three of us.” He started. “We all have to work together to make this work. We have to trust each other. This isn't me and Credence against you, Newt.”

“I know.” Newt said quietly. His hand was tight around his fork, and Percival sighed.

“So I need you to start acting like it.” Percival said. It came out a bit more harshly than he intended, and Credence started looking between the two of them in confusion while Newt hunched down even more. Percival sighed, heavily, and leaned into his hands a bit. “I'm sorry. But we’re doing a lot for you, Newt, even if you can't see it. You're doing what you want, when you want, and it isn't fair for us.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't think that's enough.” Credence said quietly. They both looked at him, and he hunched down a bit. “I just, um.” He began playing with his food, looking like he was regretting speaking up. “I like Percival, Newt. I admit I may have…panicked a bit over the week. But I do trust him. Percival.”

Warmth bloomed through Percival’s chest, and he felt his gaze turn find as he looked at Credence’s crimson face.

“Habits are-are hard to break.” He continued. “But I don't think…Newt, I don't have the same feelings for you that I do Percival.” Credence turned a bit darker and hunched over his breakfast. “And I don't think I want you to have any feelings for me unless you're willing to accept Percival too.”

“I-I understand.” Newt’s voice was quiet, and he'd been staring down at his food during the entirety of Credence’s little speech. He looked up now, determination and just a little bit of fear covering his face as he said, “I'll work on it.”

“That’s all we ask.” Percival reached out and took Credence’s hand, the weight of the other palm familiar in his hand. After a bit of hesitation, he reached out and took Newt’s hand, mindful of the way he had it clamped around his fork. He was a little surprised when Newt dropped his fork and twisted his hand; the movement brought their palms together, and allowed Newt to interlace their fingers together.

“I’ll work on it.” He repeated softly.


	13. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure if I like this chapter or not...

They were _supposed_ to be leaving, Percival thought with a groan, and when Tina shot him a look, he told her as much.

“We have a _date_ , Goldstein.” He said gruffly.

“Don't you ‘Goldstein’ me outside of work, Percival.” She told him fiercely. “I am your friend, not your subordinate, and I _told_ you this conversation would be happening. Just because you vanished- - -”

“Can it at least wait until after dinner?” Percival grumbled, sitting back against the sofa. He’d cut her off just in time, and Tina knew it. Credence sat down next to him, staring down at his lap. Newt perched himself on the arm of the sofa uncertainly, and it was on Newt that Tina zoned in on.

“No.” She said briskly, looking more irritated than she had any right to.

“We’re just trying to look out for you, Perci, that's all.” Queenie said comfortingly. He shot her a look that accompanied just what he thought of her saying that, and she threw her hands up. “Percival Graves, you stop that right this instant!”

“You’re just a pair of busybodies.” Percival grumbled again, but he leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. “I don't suppose it would help to let you both know we spoke about it this morning?”

“No.” Tina said firmly. “Because we both know how you are Percival, and you're too kind to be dealing with this properly.” She fixed her gaze on Newt pointedly, but looked down at her hands. “I don't think you two understand how hard this has been on Percival.”

“We’re not doing this.” Percival stood and took her arm gently, and she glowered up at him. He stared down impassively, and they engaged in a silent battle of wills that was broken by Queenie leaning forward and saying, very softly, “Newt?”

“If you could stay out of my mind,” Newt said quietly, if a bit shortly, “that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Don't you snap at my sister!” Tina got to her feet, yanking her arm from Percival to point at Newt. “You've no right- - -”

“You just worry so loudly- - -” Queenie was trying to say over her sister, and Percival threw his hands in the air.

“Can you both calm down- - -”

“ENOUGH!!” Everyone was startled into silence; there was a miniature whirlwind of books and papers, and when things settled, Credence was standing with his fists clenched by his side. His breathing was heavy, and there was a gathering of tears in his eyes.

“Oh, honey.” Queenie started, but Credence didn't let her say anything else.

“No! Enough!” He wiped his face and took a deep breath. “I just…there's too much…”

“Ok.” Percival reached over and placed his hands on Credence’s shoulder. The younger boy leaned into him instantly, and Percival let him for a few moments before setting him into the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” Credence was whispering; his hands were still twisting over themselves, but he wasn't trembling, and Percival counted that as a minor victory. “I'm sorry.”

“You're ok.” Percival soothed, turning a stern look on the girls. Tina’s mouth twisted just a bit, and Queenie looked outright ashamed of herself. “All right. One at a time.”

“I’m not comfortable with anyone in my head.” Newt said quietly. His shoulders were tensed, and his fingers were fidgeting in his lap. “I've never known a Legilimens, and I don't appreciate having one poking around in my head.”

“You just don't want your affairs out in the open.” Tina muttered, and Newt’s head shot up at that. He looked very lost, and his mouth shot open before he could seem to think it through.

“Affairs? What affairs?”

“I don't know!” Tina exclaimed. “Frank, for one? I don't claim to know your life, Mr. Scamander, but- - -”

“Oh.” Newt hunched in on himself again, his face turning a steady crimson. “Oh, I see.”

“I don't.” Tina snapped at the same time Queenie clapped a hand to her mouth. Her eyes were bright, like she was trying not to laugh, and Newt sent an embarrassed smile at Percival.

“It's my, ah, my work.” He said. “Frank wasn't- - -I mean,” he was a dark scarlet now, “he was a thunderbird I was bringing back to Arizona.”

“A thunderbird.” Time repeated slowly. She sounded very disbelieving, and Newt smiled bashfully at her. 

“Yes, he was in very bad condition when I found him. I’d only had him for a small while, but he's loads better now!” Newt looked so immensely proud of himself that Percival couldn't help the snort that came from him. Newt shot him an odd look, but Percival covered his face with his hand, trying not to laugh too hard.

“You named a thunderbird Frank?” Gathering himself a bit at Newt’s affronted look, Percival asked, “any other creatures we should be warned about?” Newt smiled just a little nervously, eyes glancing to the side.

“Uh, no…?”

“All right, that's enough!” Percival stood abruptly, breaking the suspicious look Tina was giving Newt. “We have a date tonight, and you two meddlers have intruded long enough. It's time you were on your way.”

“Percival- - -d” Queenie protested as he took her gently by the elbow.

“C’mon, Percival…” Tina pulled him to a stop just as he pushed the sisters onto the threshold of his home. Her face was drawn and worried, and she was shooting a weird look over Percival’s shoulder.

“Tina, let it be.”

“If he had a thunderbird,” she said quietly, “he might have other, more dangerous creatures with him.”

“If he does,” Percival told her just as quietly, “then that is for us to discuss. Don't worry about it, Tina.”

“Percival,” she started, but he gave her a gentle smile and patted her arm.

“Let me worry about what goes on in my household, Tina.” He said. “Keep an eye on your sister, huh?” Tina smiled at him then, her shoulders slumping just a little in the way they usually did when she gave up. Percival watched the girls as they stepped onto the sidewalk and into the alley by his house; he waited for a few more moments, until he heard the crack of apparition, and then he went back into the house so they could leave.

XxX

With Newt’s job out in the open, and Percival's fears about adultery assuaged, the Scamander was much more open in their marriage. The difference was nearly astounding, Percival noted, because there was such an air around him when he went off. Newt was very clearly passionate about his work, and he spoke of it fondly to him and Credence in the mornings they shared breakfast.

Such as now.

“They're really very prideful.” Newt was saying eagerly, if a tad defensively. One hand was waving carelessly, the other holding a small mixture of egg and hash brown halfway up to his face; he'd seemed to have forgotten its existence in midair. “They demand respect. All Hippogriffs. It is imperative that you show them the respect that you'd expect, and that you don't insult them.”

“Is that right?” Percival mused aloud, chin on his palm. He cut an amused glance at Credence, who hid his smile in a graceful scoop of food, and continued. “How do you go about showing Hippogriffs respect, then?”

“It's all about posturing.” Newt finally seemed to remember his food, and he dug in suddenly. “Eye contact is definitely a must, you have to bow, and you absolutely must wait until they bow back before you ever approach them. Mother raised them, you know, if you ever have any questions you should come straight to me. I know practically all there is about Hippogriffs, I really do.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Percival placed his utensils on his plate, watching with a bemused look as Credence carefully reached over and pulled his empty one under his own half-finished one. Newt was still eating his own food, talking animatedly about the Hippogriffs.

“What other creatures do you know about?” Credence asked curiously as he picked at the last of his own food.

“Oh!” Newt perked up a little more at that, a wide smile lighting up his face. Percival was more than content to let him ramble, until he began with an excited, “oh, I know about all sorts of creatures! Nifflers, and Occamies,” and there was a little crease there; surely those little creatures were illegal? “Nundus are a particularly- - -”

“Those are absolutely illegal.” Percival squinted a bit, watching as Newt’s face dimmed to uncertainty, his smile slipping just a little bit into guilt. Interesting. Percival got a feeling, low in his gut, that he would have to start the paperwork for permits very soon. “And extremely dangerous. How on earth did you get close enough to learn anything about a Nundu?”

“I am a magizoologist.” He said. His tone was proud and defensive. “I take my job very seriously. As long as you're very careful, and don't intend to do harm, you'll find that all creatures are very amicable. It's only when they're threatened are they dangerous, much like a human.”

“I don't dispute that fact.” Percival said, raising his hands in a universal sign of peace. His mind began whirring, wondering if Newt had ever considered a position in government; he himself dealt with a lot of creature cases, and he suddenly realized just how useful his husband would be with his work. “I'm just curious as to how you managed to meet a Nundu and survive.”

“Oh.” Newt fidgeted awkwardly and suddenly launched into his story. “Well, Rosie had injured her leg…” Percival unintentionally zoned out of the story, amusement twisting his mouth into a pleased smile as Newt gestured dramatically and Credence gasped in the appropriate places in the Scamander’s story.

Because of course Newt would come face to face with a deadly creature, potentially adopt the damn thing if his shifty look was anything to go by, and name it Rosie.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feels like the longer this story gets, the more I lose control over it.

It was some kind of law, right? Right when things seemed to start looking up, something had to come up and ruin it. Pick up a sickle, lose a galleon. Find that book you were looking for, lose your report.

Start making a headway in your marriage after nearly a year, and make a break in your case that was…

“Dammit.” Percival stood with a grunt, rubbing his hand over his face. Dawlish stood to the side, rubbing his head with the tip of his wand.

“So, uh,” he said slowly, “it's one a yours then.”

“God dammit.” Percival bent over the Hippogriff again; looked over the damaged wings and malnourished body, the way the legs were bent a little oddly for a Hippogriff. It was the one he'd spotted in the warehouse, he knew it.

For some reason, Newt kept popping in his mind. He would be heartbroken about the Hippogriff, Percival knew. He wasn't looking forward to having the conversation at dinner, but there wasn't any way he could hide it from Credence or Newt.

It wasn't easy, but he hadn't yet gotten around to telling them that the reason he'd been gone so long was because he'd gotten injured on the job. He knew Credence would be more than understanding, and he knew Newt wouldn't actually hold it against him for being in a magically-induced coma, but Percival couldn't bring himself to admit to getting himself so very injured.

Even now, Tina would shoot him disapproving looks, and Queenie had started looking vaguely irritated with him; the medi-wizards had healed the majority of his injuries, but they hadn't been able to identify the red curses being shot at Percival. Most of his injuries, particularly in his shoulder and his temple, had a habit of flaring up in a burning sort of agony that he forced himself to work through. He was careful to keep that hidden from both boys, though it was getting a little harder each day to focus on that.

“Take it back to MACUSA.” Percival said, straightening up. Pain rippled down his wand arm, and he ignored it in order to focus. “We’ll look it over in more detail there. Hopefully we’ll find another clue that'll lead us to the wizards responsible.”

“Got it.” Dawlish snapped a mocking salute, but turned and began shouting orders. Percival took a moment to sit on the floor, reaching out and dragging his fingers through the creature’s feathers. They felt brittle, and dry, and Newt came to mind again.

It might be helpful if they put Newt on the case, Percival mused again. There were too many creatures involved, and if Newt had grown up around the Hippogriffs like he'd said, it would be best to have an expert on their team.

Seraphina wouldn't approve it, but Percival remembered the President from school very well. She'd been several years ahead of him, but that didn't mean that she hadn't been well acquainted with him at all. He was sure he'd be able to convince her that Newt would be an asset.

Until then, he heaved himself up and began walking back to the apparition point.

XxX

“Credence?” The youngest lifted his head with a soft questioning sound, watching as Newt sat carefully across from him on his sofa. Well, it was Percival’s sofa because it was in his office, but Credence had appropriated it for himself and Percival didn't seem to mind.

“Yes, Newt?” Newt looked uncomfortable, shifting his shoulders uneasily. Credence watched him with a frown, wondering at the unease. “Would you like to go into the kitchen…?” The kitchen, Credence felt, was neutral territory. The office belonged to Percival, and now Credence as well. It was their space; their rooms were separate as well, Newt in his own space while Credence and Percival had their own.

The only area they all shared was the living room and kitchen. They were, essentially, a couple learning each other with an additional roommate. The thought made Credence’s shoulders slump just a bit, though he wasn't sure Newt realized the reasoning behind it; it made him a little depressed that Newt didn't trust them too much.

Hopefully that would change.

“No, here is-here is fine.” Newt smiled softly, nervously, and twisted his hands together. It was a nervous tick of his, Credence noticed, and he wondered what Newt’s reaction would be if he reached over and took his hand to calm him.

The scenario in his mind didn't go well, and he kept his hands on his book.

“I was wondering…at, um, what you said the other day.” Newt started haltingly. Credence wracked his brain, trying to figure what he might have said, when Newr continued. “That you wouldn't want my feelings for you unless I could accept Percival.”

“You treat him very unfairly.” Credence said, curling in on himself just a bit. “You treat me very unfairly.”

“I know.” Newt sighed. “I am sorry about that, Credence, because I don't mean to put you to the side, honestly I don't. But…what makes Percival so trustworthy? Why should I let him into my life, when I don't know anything about him?”

“You haven't even tried!” Credence shot to his feet before he could help himself. Newt looked surprised at his outburst; Credence was surprised at his outburst. But it came pouring out, and he had no way of stopping it. “You're not trying Newt, and Percival is trying so hard!”

“Credence- - -”

“No, he is- - -he is so kind, Newt,” Credence sighed shakily, his head spinning just a bit. He felt…lighter, somehow, his chest a little warmer than it had been before. “He is so kind, and so patient, and you have been walking all over him from the start. All over both of us. It isn't-it's not fair to us!”

“I'm sorry, Credence.” Newt said quietly, and Credence looked at him, really looked.

Newt was folded awkwardly on the sofa, his legs up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He was staring straight ahead, and Credence couldn't see him well, but he could tell Newt was having trouble swallowing.

“I never wanted this, you know.” He said softly. Credence sat down, his heart aching in his chest; Newt hadn't wanted him at all. It was all his worst fears collecting together, even if he knew on some instinctual level that it wasn’t true.

“Never?” He repeated weakly.

“No.” Newt said. “I was always…fascinated by creatures, even as a child. Mother bred Hippogriffs, and they are magnificent. Other creatures interested me too, and magizoology was the only career option for me.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Credence asked quietly. He was trying to keep his heartbreak out of his voice, and he must have been doing a wonderful job of it; Newt didn't even seem to think anything was wrong with him at all.

“My job means I travel a lot.” Newt sighed. “I've never really stayed in one place for too long, and even though my home was in London, I was never there often. And Percival would never allow it. I've lost everything to this, Credence.”

“Did you…did you meet him, before?” Credence asked quietly. There was so much hurt pooling in his chest, he thought he would burst. Newt had known of Percival? Had known him, and spoken with him, and not either one of them had thought to involve Credence in their discussions? Hadn't thought to find the third member in this marriage?

Credence wasn't sure what hurt more.

“No.” Newt said, and Credence was almost ashamed at the relief that ran through him. “I only ever heard of him. And he didn't seem like he would let me do my job properly, Credence.”

“I think he would let you do your job just fine.” Credence said quietly. “He's very understanding, you know. You would just have to listen to what he has to say.”

“Maybe.” Newt said. He gave Credence a sideways look as he stood up, stretching a little after staying curled so tightly. With a small smile, Newt reached out and ran his hand through Credence’s dark hair before walking out of the room again.

XxX

“Percival!” Credence jumped about six feet in the air, and several books fell off the bookshelf. He stared, wide-eyed and terrified, at Tina Goldstein, who slid to a stop in the doorway. They stared at each other, neither moving, until Percival appeared at the top of the stairs.

“What’s the fuss?” He grumbled, eyes darting between the two of them. Tina broke first, looking up in a quiet panic.

“Queenie.” She said, and Percival was down the stairs faster than either could blink. His expression was thunderous, and Credence felt a chill go down his spine; the Auror looked positively furious. Tina seemed to realize she said the wrong thing, because she grabbed hold of his arm before he could storm past her into the evening.

“Watch it- - -!”

“No, it's-it…” Tina seemed to struggle to get the words out before she blurted out, “she found him.” There was a beat of silence, something awkward growing in the air, before the tension abruptly left Percival’s shoulders.

“I thought we agreed,” he said sternly, “that we wouldn't let Queenie alone with No-Majs.” Tina made a clicking noise with her teeth, shrugging in a way that seemed to say ‘what can you do?’ Percival sighed heavily. “Do we at least know who he is?”

“Kowalski.” Tina came in fully, sitting down on the sofa and burying her hands in her short hair. “Jacob. He came by, handing out flyers. Something about a bakery? I don't know. I just…”

“Oh, Percival!” Queenie burst into the middle of the living room, her hair mussed and her face flushed. She looked bright and excited, and she didn't even notice her sister or Credence. She practically flew to Percival, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly. “I've found him, Percival, I found him!”

“Are you sure?” Percival sounded less than amused, but Queenie didn't seem to notice. While they spoke, Credence inched his way towards the sofa where Tina sat.

“Hi.” He said quietly, and Tina lifted her head to look tiredly at him. Credence fidgeted, but his curiosity won out and he said, “could you maybe do me a favor?”

“I suppose.” Tina said slowly, narrowing her eyes. “What's the favor?”

“My-my sisters.” Credence fidgeted just a bit now. They were No-Majs, and he knew the rules, but still. He sort of didn't want to get Tina in trouble, but he still wanted to know. “Modesty and Chastity. Is there…is there any way for you to check on them?”

“They're the No-Majs, right?” He nodded, and Tina sighed. “I'll check on them, but there's not much I can do otherwise. Do you understand?”

So no interfering. Credence swallowed heavily, looking down at his hands, but nodded. Tina patted his leg and stood up, leaving him alone to his thoughts as he tried to calm his racing heart. It'd been over a year now, Credence thought, and he was worried about the girls he lived with. Chastity was older and could hold her own, but Modesty was still little. She still needed protecting, and Credence wanted to be sure she was as ok as she could be under Mary Lou.

And, truthfully, he wanted to know at least a little about his Ma. There were times when he went hungry, to make sure the girls could eat and the little kids wandering off the streets would still get fed, and he wanted to know if Mary Lou was still having those issues with food. If his Ma was keeping warmth in their little house, and none of them were sick or hurt.

Or that Mary Lou wasn't taking her anger out on the girls like she would him.


End file.
